


Something's Wrong

by AlextoyourOlivia



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28485285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlextoyourOlivia/pseuds/AlextoyourOlivia
Summary: Andy walked away and tossed her phone in a fountain...she felt instant regret. Miranda felt a flash of dread.Andy's immediate return soothed her regret but didn't take away Miranda's dread...what's wrong? How will they fix it? And will they ever see what's right in front of them?
Relationships: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Comments: 24
Kudos: 95





	1. Dread

Ransom - Chapter 1

“Where’s Six?”

“Obviously, not here,” Miranda answered Nigel in a good facsimile of her normal tone. He knew her well enough to know, however, that something was wrong.

“Shall I take your notes, then, or is Six going to make an appearance?” Nigel pushed, just a little, to see if whatever was wrong had to do with the erstwhile assistant.

“Take notes, Nigel, that’s all.” Miranda wanted the conversation to end. She couldn’t focus. She was in shock. _She left. Being compared to me was the final straw. I’ve been pushing her and pushing her for months and finally, when I thought she had reached the peak of her potential and was ready to be nudged from the nest, she flew away all on her own. She left me to walk alone. Silly old woman, how could I have thought that look in her eyes last night meant anything other than pity._

True to form, like any other Runway employee, Nigel sat quietly and watched Miranda watch the show. He took careful and precise notes on what she thought of each piece as well as detailed descriptions of the clothing, accessories, and models. The only person who could have taken notes as well as Nigel was Andy. Though her notes would have been different, they would have been just as effective.

**A few blocks away**

_Oh, my God. What was I thinking? What the hell am I doing? Why would it have been so bad to be compared to Miranda? I respect her. I admire her. She’s a strong, powerful woman at the top of her industry. People will do anything to make her happy and the moment I had the chance to do just that, I took off. I ran away from her. How could I do that to her right now? I know what she’s going through and I treated her just like her loser husband. She was complimenting me for goodness’ sake! I am an idiot. An idiot in a foreign country with no phone._ At that, Andrea turned and walked the ten yards back to the fountain, reached in and took her ruined phone out. _I won’t be an idiot without a phone for long. There has to be a wireless store around here somewhere. Then I’ll go back, throw myself at her feet, and beg for absolution. Which she’ll never give. I am such an idiot. How am I going to fix this?_  
Andy looked around for a store that could help her, seeing none she found someone to ask. As soon as she had directions, she practically sprinted. She knew she had less than an hour to get a new phone and get back to the show before Miranda was done and she was determined to do so. In fact, she was more determined than ever to do what she had to for Miranda.

**Back at the show**

Nigel could tell Miranda was distracted throughout the show. Her eyes would check each model before flitting anxiously to each entrance, watching for someone, it seemed. _She’ll show up. Andréa is much too professional to abandon me here._ Runway, _abandon_ Runway _here. She left the magazine, not me. She was only my employee, my assistant. She only worked for me. This pain is just heartburn. I. Am. Fine._

As the last model entered the runway, Miranda suddenly felt her body break out in a cold sweat. She felt absolutely terrified. Her adrenaline shot through the roof and her heart rate skyrocketed. Something was dreadfully wrong.

“Nigel, I have to go,” she said quickly.

“Miranda, the show wasn’t that bad,” he laughed.

“No, Nigel, something’s wrong. I have to go. You stay. Schmooze for me. The show wasn’t that bad; there were some useful pieces. Please, Nigel, I have to go.”

Blown away by the timbre of Miranda’s request and the fact that she had said please, Nigel quickly agreed. “I’ll meet you later, Miranda. No problem.” As the woman started to leave, Nigel briefly touched her arm to stop her. “Miranda, whatever’s going on, I’m sure it will be fine. Nothing to worry about. I’ll come by for drinks later and we’ll talk.” _She at least owes me a conversation after her little stunt with James Holt and Jacqueline Follet._

Miranda merely nodded and turned quickly for the door, already dialing her driver as she stepped outside. She saw the car pull up as she heard her name fall from lips she thought she’d never see again.

“Andréa,” Miranda breathed, still feeling the suffocating sense of dread.

Surprising them both, Andy stepped forward and hugged Miranda tightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “it’ll never, ever happen again.” Miranda felt tears in her sunglass shielded eyes and held them back through sheer power of will alone. Just as Andy was going to release the stiff-backed woman in her arms, Miranda reached around the taller woman’s waist. Her palms pressed into the lengthy spine of the younger woman, bringing their bodies into full contact. Andy felt a shudder go through the smaller body. “Miranda,” she prayed, “Miranda.”

Miranda sniffed gently and stepped back from her assistant. Without waiting for someone to do it for her, Miranda hurriedly opened the car door and gestured for Andréa to climb in ahead of her.

Once the door was securely closed, Miranda ordered the driver back to their hotel.

“Your schedule, Miranda?” Andy asked.

“Something’s wrong, Andréa. I don’t know what but something’s wrong. I thought,” Miranda uncharacteristically stumbled over her words, “I thought, maybe, that it was you. You’re here, though. You came back and something is still wrong.”

“Miranda, what are you talking about? What do you mean something’s wrong?” Andy was confused.

“I don’t know, Andréa!” Miranda practically shouted, “I just know something is wrong. I have this, this feeling. My heart is pounding. My skin is clammy. I thought I was having a panic attack but it’s different.”

Andy took a risk and reached toward her boss, grasping her hand. “We’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Maybe you just thought I messed up your schedule?”

Miranda turned her face to the younger woman and whipped the glasses right off, “I will not be patronized. Something. Is. Wrong.”

“Okay, okay, I believe you. Should I,” Andy paused, “I don’t want to upset you but should I call the girls?”

“Yes, let’s call them. You call Cassidy and I’ll call Caroline. Just to make sure they’re fine, you know,” Miranda was trying to convince herself.

The women pulled out their phones and, taking deep breaths, were about to call the girls when Miranda stopped them. 

“I’m going to call Stephen first. No need to unnecessarily alert the girls; they’re at school still, I think.”

“Would you rather I call him, Miranda? I don’t mind,” Andy offered.

Miranda was about to snap at the young woman for her gall when she looked at Andy’s face and realized that the brown-eyed girl was truly trying to help and support her.

“No need, Andréa, I’ll call him. I believe he still lives at my townhouse, though he spends so little time there it is hard to tell. He is supposed to be looking after my children while I’m here,” Miranda scrolled through her contacts looking for her soon-to-be ex-husband’s information.

The white-haired woman put the phone up to her ear while the fingers of her left hand twitched nervously on her lap. Andy steeled herself for rejection and reached over to entwine the fingers of her right hand with Miranda's left. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt Miranda grip her hand in return. _Maybe she really is forgiving me for taking off. After all, I did come right back. And I do love her. Not that she knows that. I’ll just stay here, at Runway, by her side. I’ll show her every day how loyal I can be and eventually she’ll see she just can’t be without me. She’s already holding my hand and she did hug me back._

“Stephen, it’s Miranda...I’m sure you’re very busy...Yes, thank you for interrupting your meeting to speak with me...No, I just...but...Dammit, Stephen, I am allowed to call to check up on my children. You know, those two little humans that look so alike you can’t tell them apart? How are they doing?...No, they’re not going to their father’s today...They’re supposed to be going directly home after school today...From whom?...Their driver shouldn’t be sending you messages about them...Please, Stephen, hold on for just a moment...Please, these are my babies we’re talking about, just hold on for a moment...Thank you,” Miranda pulled the phone away from her ear and turned toward Andy, “I didn’t approve a change in the girl’s schedule this week, did you?”

“No, Miranda,” Andy was already rifling through her calendar, “Well, kind of, I have in here that the girls had soccer and piano yesterday, nothing today and they’re not doing their riding lessons tomorrow and dance classes the next day were cancelled because of testing at school. I actually have written down that they are not to have any extra activities this week so that they can get enough sleep to do well on the tests. I don’t know what this is about.” Andy was starting to get worried, too.

“Stephen says he got a text from their driver that he would be taking them to their father’s house in the Hamptons today and they would stay there for the rest of the week. He claims he questioned the driver and was told it was approved by my, and I quote, ‘fucking assistant’ earlier this week,” Miranda said quickly.

“Well, not by me, Miranda. I would never do something like that without you telling me to. I’m calling Emily,” Andy defended. The British assistant’s phone was already ringing in Andy’s ear.

Miranda returned to her call with Stephen. “Stephen, I know you don’t want this to be your problem but something’s wrong. I never agreed to send the girls to their father’s, they have testing at school this week...That’s right, Dalton Mids...I’m going to call James and see if he did this without my approval...I doubt it, too, which means this is terrible...Okay, I’ll call you after I talk to James...Thank you, I’ll call you right back,” Miranda hung up.

She turned to Andy to listen to her side of the conversation with Emily. “I didn’t think you would, Emily, and neither did Miranda but we had to check. Do not say anything about this to anyone. Start quietly arranging for a flight home for Miranda and myself as soon as possible...No, I don’t have to ask her for approval, I know what to do...Emily, just do it!”

Miranda reached over and took the phone from Andy’s hand, “Emily, just do what Andréa says. Assume any orders from her come from me. That’s all.” Miranda hung that call up, too.

Andy blinked blankly before getting back to the matter at hand, “Call James, Miranda. I’m going to text Cass and Caro and ask exactly where they are.”

At that precise moment, Andy’s phone beeped with a text from Cassidy Priestly. Andy was momentarily relieved...until she read it.

_**Wats wit nu driver? Tell us nxt time! We almost didnt get in r car** _

Andy gasped and grabbed Miranda’s hand in panic, “Shit, Miranda! Shit!” Andy quickly texted back:

_**Get out of car. Now. Lie, say anything, just get out of the car with your sister.** _

“What? What is it!”

“The girls don’t have a new driver do they?”

“Of course, not! They’ve had the same driver since Pre-K. He loves them, he buys them birthday and Christmas gifts,” Miranda was nearing hysteria.

Andy leaned forward and instructed their driver to divert to the American Embassy immediately.

Miranda was hyperventilating. She was stuck in a car in a foreign country while her girls, her babies, were in a car with a stranger on a different continent. _This is my fault. I never should have come to Paris. If I weren’t so damn focused on this stupid magazine I would have been home with my children instead of being in France while they’re being_ , “Kidnapped. Andréa, my babies are being kidnapped.”

“No, Miranda, we won’t let that happen. I’m going to call James. You just breathe. Slowly. Listen, Miranda, I’m going to call him from your phone so that I can get any texts from Cass right away, okay?”

When Miranda nodded, Andy reached over and took the phone from her lap. She quickly found James’ information and was waiting for him to answer her call. He didn’t pick up and ANdy had to leave a voicemail, “Hello, James, this is Miranda’s assistant, Andy, um, Andréa. There’s an emergency with the girls and you need to call us back immediately. We’re heading to the American Embassy in France right now to try to get a flight home as soon as possible. Call us back.”

Andy disconnected and was about to call Nigel when she felt something wet on her hand. She looked over to see tears streaming down Miranda’s face. She tried to let go of Miranda’s hand to wrap her arm around the smaller woman but Miranda wouldn’t let go. Andy instead lifted her arm around Miranda with their hands still attached. “We’ll stop this, Miranda. We will not let anyone do anything to hurt your babies. You and I are a great team and we can fix this. You have to believe that, Miranda. You have to,” Andy whispered into Miranda’s ear as she tucked the woman into her side.

When she didn’t get an answer, Andy went back to Miranda’s phone and called Nigel.

“Well, what’s wrong?”

“Nigel, it’s Andy. I need you to-”

“Ugh, where were you, Six!? I had to take notes for you! That’s your job, you know,” Nigel interrupted.

“Nige, shut up. We have an emergency and we need you to go back to the hotel and pack all of our belongings and bring them to us at the American Embassy. Do not say anything to anyone. Just do it right away. As fast as you possibly can.”

“Six, what’s going on? Miranda ran out of that show like her hair was on fire and now you’re calling with an emergency. What’s up?” He demanded.

“I really can’t tell you on the phone and I don’t think we’re ready to talk about it until we’re more sure of what we’re dealing with. Please, Nigel, we’re running out of time. Just please go back and pack our bags,” Andy begged.

“Okay, okay, but when I get to the Embassy, I expect an answer.”

“Fine. Bye.” Andy hung up.

Nigel did as he was asked and headed swiftly back across the city to pack for the women. _And what’s with all the “we have” and “we need”? Since when are they a we?_

**In Manhattan**

“Can we stop for frozen yogurt?” Cass asked the driver.

“No.”

“But we always stop for frozen yogurt during Dalton Mids. It’s like a ritual.”

“Yes, it’s a tradition,” Caroline joined in having seen the text from Andy.

“No.”

“Come on. It’s on our way home. Which is totally not this way! Are you lost?”

“No. You’re not going home. I’m taking you to your father’s house for the week. Stephen doesn’t want to watch you anymore.”

**At the American Embassy in France**

“Did you tell the children to call 911?”

“No,” Miranda answered, flustered, “I didn’t even think of it. I should have told them that.”

Andy jumped in, “I didn’t want the driver - who we don’t know - to realize they had cell phones and take them away. Can we call the NYPD from here?”

The Ambassador’s assistant with whom they were speaking clearly though the women were either stupid or lying.

“Oh, yes, heaven forbid they lose their cell phones.”

Miranda couldn’t even respond. She was so scared for her girls, she could not yet muster up the anger to put the snarky young man in his place.

Andy could, though. She slapped her hands down loudly on his desk, “Listen up you rude, little imbecile! There are two eleven year old girls in the back seat of a stranger’s car on their way to God only knows where. The only way we can keep track of them now is the GPS in their cell phones. Now, either let the Ambassador know we need help immediately, or call the NYPD yourself and explain what’s going on. If you don’t do something right this second, I will not be held responsible for my actions!”

“Fine,” the smarmy, little man answered, “I’ll let the Ambassador know he has visitors.”

After he left the room, Miranda spoke, “This is taking too long, Andréa. The girls need help now!” Miranda was standing, facing her assistant.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m trying, Miranda,” Andy placed her hand gently on Miranda’s forearm. “I’m going to text Cass again and get an exact location. I’ll tell her to make sure Caro keeps her phone hidden, okay?”

Miranda nodded, her eyes unfocussed and her skin paler than usual.

_She’s going into shock._

Andy sent a text; _**Did you get out of the car? I need to know where you are, Cassidy. And Caro MUST keep her phone hidden.**_

As she waited for a response, Andy put her arm around Miranda and led her to a small couch tucked into the side of the office. Andy grabbed a few tissues on the way knowing Miranda’s tears were going to start again.

“Sit here with me, sweetie,” Andy said without thinking as she sat on the couch and gently pulled the older woman down next to her. Miranda felt so small in Andy’s arms, the taller woman pulled her in even tighter. “They’ll be okay. We’ll make sure of it. Whatever it takes, they will be okay,” Andy whispered.

**In Manhattan**

Cassidy felt her phone buzz when Andy’s message came through. Waiting a moment to check it, she answered the new driver, “I know Stephen’s busy but we’ll be good; we have Dalton Mids this week and we can’t just go to Daddy’s.”

“You are. He’s waiting for you.”

“Which house?” _If we’re really going to Dad’s, we should just be going to Queens, but I’m pretty sure we’re in the Bronx right now._

“The house in the Hamptons. Now sit quietly, I will not be answering any more of your questions.”

Cass answered Andy’s text; _**Andy! Help! We cant get out of the car. Driver sez we r goin to the hampton hous but i think we r in the brnx i just saw a sign for the tz bridge. Wat shud we do??? Caros phone hidden.**_

Cass reached over and laced her fingers through her sister’s. They looked at each other, silently agreeing to stick together no matter what.

**In France**

Andy realized she could use her new phone to look up the number for the NYPD herself and did so right away.

“Miranda, I’m going to call the police back home, okay? Cass thinks they’re headed north west to the Tappan Zee. I don’t know anything about the car they’re in, though. Can you text Cass and ask her about it?”

Miranda didn’t answer, she just sat there, tucked into Andy’s side. _I remember the day I found out I was going to have them. I thought it was a stomach flu and only went to the doctor when I realized my period was late._

_“Mrs. Priestly, is there anyone you’d like to call to be here with you?”_

_“My name is Miranda and I am fine on my own. What’s wrong?”_

_“Nothing’s wrong,” Dr. Sumner answered with a smile, “I just thought you might want your husband here with you to find out you're pregnant. Congratulations!”_

_“I’m what?”_

_I thought I was going to faint that day. How could I be pregnant?_ “I wasn’t the Devil in Prada yet, but I was well on my way. I just didn’t know how I could be pregnant and do my job. I was petrified.” Miranda didn’t realize she spoke out loud until she saw Andréa looking at her out of the corner of her eye.

“I think everyone who finds out they’re going to have children is petrified,” Andy said before turning to look into Miranda’s eyes. “Now, listen, Miranda, I need you to text Cassidy and ask her what kind of car they’re in. Okay, swee- err, okay, Miranda?”

The older woman nodded her agreement and sent the text to her daughter right away. “Andréa?”

“Hmm?” Andy answered quietly, waiting for her cell phone to connect her to the NYPD.

“This is taking too long, we should find another way home. I’m going to call Donnatella,” Miranda sounded a bit stronger. Her phone flashed in her hand and she looked down to see Cass had responded.

_**We’re in our car, Mom. Why did you fire Max?** _

“What on Earth is going on?”

“What, Miranda? What is it?”

“They’re in their car. I mean, the one Maximiliano always uses to drive them. This doesn’t make sense. Why would a stranger have one of my own cars? How did he get it?”

“Yes, I need to report a kidnapping...I’m in France but the kidnapping is occurring in Manhattan right now...No, this is not a prank call...please, listen to me. My name is Andréa Sachs and I am Miranda Priestly’s assistant at _Runway_. We just received a text message from her eleven year old daughters that they’ve been picked up from school by a man who they thought was a new driver but Miranda didn’t hire a new driver. They’re supposed to be...what?...you’re putting me on hold?!”

“That put you on hold? My girls are being kidnapped and they put you on hold!”

Just then, the Ambassador’s assistant came back out and motioned them over. They quickly went across the room, Andy’s phone still against her ear.

She angled the mouthpiece away from her lips and spoke to Miranda, “Listen to me, Miranda. I need you to talk the Ambassador into calling the FBI about this. We need to get home now and you need to make it happen. Turn off the scared mom. Turn on the powerful Editor-in-Chief. Be the Ice Queen, the Devil in Prada. Do it. I can’t hang up with the NYPD in case they can get the care so keep it together and make it happen.” _Please forgive me for talking to you like this. I’ll explain when we get the girls back. I’m screwed anyway, what’s one more mistake. I need you pissed off Miranda. I need that ice in your eyes that freezes everyone who looks at you. And there it is._

“I know what I need to do for my daughters, Andréa,” Miranda ground out with barely restrained fury.

The phone on the desk rang then and the assistant answered it quickly, “Yes? Let him in after you scan all the bags and show him to my office to wait. The Ambassador is going to see the women now and, probably, find them a way home.” He hung up and motioned them through the door behind him.

“Ms. Priestly, this is very unusual. You’ve never paid a visit to the Embassy on your previous trips to Paris,” Ambassador Stapleton said holding the door to his office open.

“My daughters have never been kidnapped during my previous trips to Paris, Ambassador. I need your help. I know what car they’re in and one of my girls thinks they are headed to upstate New York or Connecticut from the City. Now, do you have the FBI on the phone yet?”

“FBI? Whatever for? Your daughters are probably playing a trick on you. I’m sure you know children like to play pranks to get the attention of their parents and that’s probably what’s happened here,” Stapleton said.

“Do not dare to condescend to me about what children do and do not do to their parents. These are my daughters and I have ample reason to believe they have been kidnapped. Now, call the FBI and get us home to the girls. If you are unable to do that, at least tell us immediately so we can do it ourselves.”

The Ambassador stood staring at Miranda. He did not want to be the fool who didn’t believe her if it turned out to be true but he also did not want to be tricked by a pair of spoiled eleven year olds. Weighing his options carefully, he decided it was better to be the fool who erred on the side of caution and was opening his mouth to agree to Miranda’s demands when he realized both women were speaking into their cell phones. Hearing the younger woman use the phrase Amber Alert, he focused on her conversation.

“Yes, a black Mercedes...yes, that’s the license plate...the custody arrangement between the parents is such that they should be at their mother’s residence this week and their father does not have the legal right to alter that agreement...I don’t know, I just know he hasn’t called us back yet and he is aware that we are in Paris...We will be home as soon as we can get a flight. Their stepfather, Stephen Tomlinson, has legal guardianship of them until Miranda Priestly arrives back in the country...James Harper is their father, yes.” At a frantic wave from Miranda, Andy asked the detective she was speaking with to hold.

“Donnatella has her private jet waiting for us at de Gaulle. The pilot is clearing a flight plan to JFK, LaGuardia, or Newark as quickly as possible and we will probably be able to leave right away when we get there. Have they put out an Amber Alert?”

“They have, I’ll let them know we’re on our way. Good thinking, Miranda,” Andy smiled a small, sad grin at her. _I should have thought of that before, then we wouldn’t have wasted all this time here._ Andy went back to her phone conversation, “we have a private jet waiting for us at deGaulle. We’ll be back in about eight or nine hours...thank you, I hope so, too.”

“You said they put out an Amber Alert, right?”

“They did, Miranda. They have officers everywhere looking. They’ve slowed traffic on the Tappan Zee to one lane so, if they try to cross, they’ll be spotted for sure. They’re in touch with Stephen, he’s heading to the townhouse which they’re going to use as headquarters.”

“Headquarters? The townhouse? I don’t under-oh, my, God,” Miranda gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand.

“Let’s go, Miranda. The car’s outside and we need to get to the airport. Nigel’s brought our bags, let’s get out of here.”

“They think there will be a ransom call, don’t they? That’s why they’re all going to my house; to wait for the call. I’m not there. There’s going to be a call that could save my daughters and I won’t be there to answer it.”

Andy reached over and put her arm around Miranda’s waist, guiding her gently back to the door, not acknowledging the Ambassador at all. He hadn’t spoken in minutes and the women were too concerned with getting home to worry about him. 

He called out a belated good luck as they left his office and he picked up the phone to reach out to his best FBI contact.


	2. Panic

Disclaimer: The characters you recognize from DWP are (of course) not mine. I just like to play with them a bit and let them have some fun...although they aren’t having much fun in this chapter. It’s a little scary. Also, I realize that the twins could make different choices and save themselves (probably) but they are just two eleven year olds who lead a rather charmed life. They might not think of the things adults would think of to get away from someone bigger, stronger, and older.

**In New York **

“What are we stopping here for?”

“Gas.”

“Excuse me, sir, I really need to use the restroom,” Caroline said quietly.

“No.”

“For reals? My sister has to pee and if you don’t let her, I’ll tell my mom to fire you,” Cass tried to sound as bratty as she could.

“Fine. You will go quickly and separately and return immediately to the car.”

“Whatever,” Cass answered.

“Thank you,” Caro said sweetly. She rummaged around in her backpack for a moment before putting something in her pocket.

“What was that?” The driver asked angrily as he pulled into a crowded gas station.

“Um, it’s a girl thing,” she replied, “I, uh, have, you know.” Caroline looked awkwardly out the window while her face turned pink.

The driver’s face turned just as pink as he tried to ignore her embarrassed answer. “Okay, then you can go first while I put gas in the car. When you get back, your sister can go. We don’t have time to waste so hurry. Don’t talk to anyone. You know, you shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

“Okay, sir, no problem. I’ll go as fast as I can.”

The driver lined the car up with a pump and stepped out to start refueling. When Caroline tried to open her own door to get out, though, the handle wouldn’t work.

“Cass, we’re trapped,” she said worriedly.

“He probably just turned on the safety lock. Did you take your phone?”

The girls were speaking quickly so he wouldn’t hear them.

“No, I didn’t want him to see it,” Caro explained.

“Okay, take mine then. I don’t want you in there without it. Tell Andy where we are right now.”

“I grabbed a Sharpie, I’ll leave a note in the bathroom for someone to find.”

He opened the door then, so the girls stopped talking and Caroline climbed out of the car. Cassidy stayed where she was until he stuck his face in the door and ordered her out, too.

“Oh, can I go with my sister?” She smiled.

“No, we’re switching cars. Get out.”

“Let me just grab our backpacks.”

“No, you don’t need them. Leave you things where they are and get out of the car.”

For the first time, Cassidy felt truly scared.

“We need to study. We’ll have to take our midterms when we get back from Dad’s.”

“You don’t need to study this week. Leave them where they are. Let’s go, kid,” he said angrily.

**In Paris**

Andy sat in the back of the car between Nigel and Miranda; the trunk loaded with all three of their belongings.

“Nigel, I cannot do this right now. I know you hate me. I know you are beyond disappointed with what I did to you this morning but I need you to stay here and keep working. I will not be able to spare a thought for _Runway_ after this conversation. I need to know you are here running things.”

“Miranda, I’ve known your children just as long as you have. I was the first person who knew you were pregnant. I went with you to the hospital. I held Cassidy before you did. I don’t care about the magazine right now.”

“And I love you for it but I need your help,” Miranda took a deep breath and looked out the window. She needed to calm herself before she spoke again.

Andy, however, took up the slack. “Nigel, think about it. Miranda literally just put Irv in his place. He is going to be searching for another way to get rid of her as quickly as possible. We know you’re angry right now and hurt and you don’t want to listen to anything Miranda has to say but just stop for a moment and think. Do you really want the sacrifice that was made this morning to mean nothing tomorrow? That’s exactly what will happen if you come home with us now. If Miranda leaves Paris and you don’t stay to take over for her, do you think any of us will have jobs next week? Jacqueline Follet will be the Editor-in-Chief of _Runway_ and Christian Thompson will be her Nigel. Irv doesn’t care about James Holt International and he won't’ hesitate to pull Jacqueline back from it. Is that what you want to happen to the magazine?”

After a few seconds of his jaw hanging open, Nigel looked out his own window. “I know that makes business sense to Irv in some strange way but I just can’t imagine that a human being would do that to someone whose children have just been...taken.”

“Mmm,” Miranda hummed, “I would say you also cannot imagine someone ruining their best friend’s dream to keep their own job but that happened already once today.”

“Miranda, James Holt International wasn’t my dream. Yes, I would like to be doing something bigger than what I do at _Runway_ but I’ll be fine.”

“I have some ideas on that front but I simply cannot think about them right now. We will discuss this, in depth, after…” Miranda’s voice broke off then and she looked out the window before the tears could begin again.

Filling in the blank, Andy spoke up, “after the girls are home, of course.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll take care of the rest of Fashion Week. I’ll think of something to cover it.”

“I am quite sure there will be no need. The news of this...situation...will leak soon enough and everyone will understand why I left. They may not believe it, that the Dragon Lady has maternal instincts, but I do and they are currently screaming at me that I am missing something.”

“You’re not, Miranda. There’s nothing to miss. We’ll go over it again when we get on the plane. We’ll make a spreadsheet or something on my laptop, a list of possibilities. We will figure this out. There is no other option,” Andy spoke quietly and sincerely, looking into Miranda’s water, blue eyes and holding Miranda’s right hand between both of her own.

Nigel was confused as to Six’s sudden touchy-feely status with their hands-off boss. He knew no one ever touched Miranda, even he didn’t put his hands on her. Not knowing anything about the current state of her marriage, Nigel quickly brought it up. “So, what was Stephen doing when the girls were taken? Isn’t he supposed to be watching them?”

Miranda took a very deep breath before answering. She hated to speak about her private life but knew she could trust the two people in the backseat with her. After all, if she couldn't trust Andréa, who could she? “Cassidy and Caroline were in Stephen’s care. He agreed to stay at the townhouse with them while I had to be in Paris.”

“What do you mean, Miranda?” Nigel asked.

Andy simply nodded, she was in no way surprised that Stephen was no longer living with Miranda. After the argument she saw and the few she had heard while dropping off the book, Andy had been surprised Miranda would allow anyone to speak to her in the manner Stephen did. Then, one evening, Andy entered with the book and the house was different. It was calm and it had stayed that way. She hadn’t had to intercept any angry phone calls or make up excuses as to why Miranda was unavailable. “I had almost assumed as much but then, earlier, you made some offhand comment about thinking he still lived at the townhouse.”

“Yes, I am sorry about that. I have simply grown used to making excuses regarding my relationship with him. I did not intend to actually lie to you, Andréa. I think he lives at the townhouse, this week, at least.”

Trying to keep Miranda’s mind off of her daughters for at least a few moments, Andy spoke again, “how long has he been gone for, Miranda?”

Nostrils flaring at the intimacy of the question, Miranda’s back straightened and she was about to speak when she felt the fingers twined with hers gently squeeze her hand. _She’s not asking to make me uncomfortable or to get the scoop. She’s asking because she’s curious and she’s trying to keep my mind off the girls. Silly girl, she doesn’t know that no matter what we’re talking about the girls are at the forefront of my thoughts._ “I know you are attempting to keep me distracted, Andréa. While I do appreciate the effort it is quite unnecessary. There is no way to be distracted from what is going on with my babies. He has been out of the townhouse for two months and a few weeks.”

“Since just after that night?” Andy’s eyes widened hugely. “I’m so sorry, Miranda! Was it my fault?”

“No, you silly girl. It was our fault. Stephen’s and mine. We should probably never have married. That night was his last in my home. He had had quite enough of me and I of him.”

“I understand. That’s what just happened with Nate and me. Though, of course, it’s not as big a deal as yours. We weren’t married or anything, just dating, but we kind of hit the end of our ropes. We both changed when we came to the city and,” Andy stopped, suddenly realizing that she was talking to Miranda Priestly, Editor-in-Chief of _Runway_ , her boss, about her break up, “I’m sorry. Never mind.”

“Madame Priestly, we will be arriving at de Gaulle momentarily. You will have to go through regular security even though you will be travelling on a private jet,” their driver interrupted.

“That is quite unusual,” Miranda said quietly.

“I apologize, however, it is due to the late hour and the sudden request. De Gaulle now requires a full day of notice to allow the luxuries of private security screenings.”

“That is unacceptable,” Andy interrupted, “I know we’re just stupid Americans but even we know about the infamous Charles de Gaulle airport and the time it takes to get through security here. Do not pull into that mess of an airport yet. Pull over and wait while I call the Embassy again.”

Nigel stared at Andy in shock. “When did you become part dragon?”

With no time to answer, Andy merely looked at him with one eyebrow up and spoke to the man on the other end of the phone, “Andréa Sachs here, Miranda Priestly’s assistant...Yes, we just left there on our way to the airport to go home...We’re trying to get out of de Gaulle on a private jet as her daughters have been kidnapped but they want us to go through general security and passport checks. You and I both know that if we have to go through the general lines we’ll never get home...Yes, time is of the essence...Please do not remind me of that right now. I am only calling because you seemed like you wanted to help Miranda and her daughters and this is how you do that. Get us into that private security and passport check now...I knew you could, sir. We own you one. Thank you...Take the second security gate, they will be expecting us? Thank you,” Andy hung up the phone and stared at their driver who was not yet moving.

“Go!” The women said in unison.

**In New York**

“Um, so, which car is ours then?”

“Not here yet.”

“Our mother would never do this to us. We always go in this car. Why are we switching? Why can’t we take our bags? I need to study. If my grades drop, Mother’s going to make our father pay more for school. It’s his fault we’re not going to be able to study.”

“You talk too much and you don’t know anything. Dads are supposed to be in charge. Your dad’s just doing what he should’ve done from the start and taking control. You’ll do what he says now.”

Cassidy saw Caroline headed back from the bathroom and started towards her gasping when she felt a large hand grasping her upper arm.

“Where are you going? I told you to wait for the other one,” he growled at her.  
The frightened girl couldn’t seem to get a word out and pointed with a shaking hand at her sister, walking quickly.

“Fine. Go. But you better hurry.”

Nodding, Cassidy ran to meet her sister before she could get too close to the car.

“He’s making us switch cars and not letting us take our backpacks. Your phone’s stuck in the car. Give me mine, quickly, so I can text Andy and Mommy. Did you leave a note?”

Caroline nodded her head in the affirmative and slipped the phone into her sister’s hand, “I’m really scared, Cass. What are we going to do? If he takes away that phone, they’ll never find us. I don’t think we’re going to Dad’s,” Caroline was sniffling.

“I don’t know, Caro. This guy seems pretty insistent that Dad should be the one in charge. Try to find out what car we’re going to take and point it out to me before I get back. I’ll try to take a picture of him and the car.”

“Why don’t we just call the cops, Cass? They would stop this!”

“Call them and tell them what? We’re being kidnapped by our own driver in our own car and being taken to our own father’s house? They’re going to say we’re being brats and then we’re going to be in more trouble with this guy.”

“I guess you’re right, but maybe we should try.”

“Okay, after I text Andy and Mom, I’ll call from the bathroom.”

“Good. Oh, God, Cassidy go fast, he’s coming over here now.”

“Be careful,” Cassidy whispered over her shoulder as she ran inside.

**In Paris**

Finally getting onto the plane with their luggage in hand, Andy and Miranda quickly sat down.

“Miranda,” the man they assumed to be a flight attendant began to speak.

“We don’t need anything but to get in the air as swiftly as possible,” Andy interrupted.

“I understand, Miss. I’m the pilot, Jeff Magee, and I was just going to quickly speak to you about the flight crew while we finish the pre-flight checklist.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, thank you.” The younger woman had the good grace to blush.

“We just landed here a few hours ago after flying Donatella’s family to Hawaii. Most of the crew lives in Europe and are going to stay here. We’re going to fly you with the minimum number of people allowed on board. That being said, the crew is exhausted.”

“We appreciate you flying us back so quickly. If Miranda needs anything, I’ll get it for her but I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“Yes, it won’t be a problem. Andréa always knows what I need,” Miranda said without thinking. When she realized how it sounded, her cheeks tinged pink but she didn’t attempt to take it back or correct herself. _Well, she does always know what I need._

“Okay, we’ll taxi out in a few moments. The crew is going to cover the safety issues and at least of the three of them will be awake at all times but the other two will be resting in the quarters in the rear of the aircraft. After takeoff we should land in LaGuardia in about eight and a half hours. Sorry for the length but we’re facing a bit of headwind tonight.”

“We are really grateful for you flying us on such short notice. Can I ask about cell phones during the flight? Is it strictly prohibited? Is there an area or a time during which they can be used? We’re hoping to hear from Miranda’s children,” Andy spoke.

“They shouldn’t really be used as they have been known to interfere with different instruments occasionally but if you just briefly turn them on to check them a few times it should be okay.”

“Captain!” They heard shouted from the cockpit, “I have completed the checks and we’re ready. They’re holding a place for us in the queue.”

“Ladies, I’ll see you in America,” the Captain turned and quickly made his way to the cockpit, closing the door behind him. After a few silent moments, his voice came over the speaker system, “This is the Captain, Jeff Magee, speaking. We will be taxiing out momentarily, please review the safety procedures and buckle your seatbelts.”

With that a tired looking flight attendant came up from the back of the plane to show the women where they would find all the safety equipment on board.

“You needn’t stay up here with us, Travis. Andréa and I will be fine and, if we are not, we will come and find you.”

Andy was pleased with Miranda’s care for the other people on the flight with them. She had fallen into the trap lately of thinking Miranda self-centered but was pleasantly reminded of that being the case only when required. Such as, at the office or at _Runway_ events. Outside of those functions, Miranda Priestly was just another woman. _Just another beautiful woman that I can’t stop thinking about._

“Please just show me where I can get coffee, tea, or water for Miranda before you go and we won’t bother you again,” Andy smiled. Not her dazzling smile, Miranda notices, just her regular, friendly smile.

_When did I start categorizing her facial expressions? Months ago…_

“If you’re sure,” Travis didn’t want Donatella Versace angry with him for snubbing Miranda Priestly.

“Miranda never says something she doesn’t mean,” Andy assured the tired young man.

“I have been known to occasionally utter something foolish, but, in this instance, I am quite serious. Donatella is doing me a favor by allowing the use of her jet and I do not, contrary to popular belief, always wish to be so demanding.”

“Thank you, Miranda. The kitchen area is in the middle here, just on the other side of that couch. The restrooms are in the front of the plane. If you could just restrict your moving about until after take-off, the rest of the flight should be easy. There are some guest quarters just on the other side of the kitchen with a bed if you two would like to rest at some point. Thank you so much for your consideration,” Travis spoke in a tired, gravelly voice. Not realizing his faux pas, the young man left the two women in the side by side reclining chairs to prepare for take-off and get some sleep.

“You don’t think he meant-”

“He could not possibly have meant-”

The women both spoke at the same time. Cheeks tinged pink, Andy recovered and spoke again, “I apologize. I’m sure I did something to make him think that.” _He must have seen me looking at her. I must learn to control my expressions better or everyone will know I’m falling for my boss._

“It was probably just the way I’ve been leaning on you. You’ve taken care of so much for me today and tonight. I feel almost disconnected from everything. This feels so unreal and I just keep grabbing on to you. You’ve kept me grounded Andréa. When my girls come home it will be because you worked so quickly and thought of things right away. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” _Or he saw the way I look at you. Even with this horrid situation, I’m sure my eyes give me away every time I look your way._

“Um, so, before we take-off, why don’t we change into something more comfortable? It’ll help me think things through better.”

“I have no idea what you mean, Andréa. I do not exactly wear...sweats... and I have no intention of putting my pajamas on, on an airplane.”  
“Oh, well, um, I have a few sets of loungewear with me. I know they won’t exactly fit you but they would probably be comfortable. Would you like to see them?”

Miranda nodded and Andy quickly pulled out two, nearly identical, set of Juicy Couture loungewear. One was black and one was gray but they both had a unique design on the left chest.

Hearing Miranda’s gasp, Andy looked up quickly. 

“Andréa?” Miranda looked wonderingly at the younger woman. “Where? I mean...what I meant to say was, where did you get these because I have the same one.”

“I know. Um, I took Cass and Caro shopping for your birthday. We, uh, we all got them.”

“So, they bought four of each set? These are, if I’m not mistaken, limited edition. Of course, I could have attained them through the magazine but, it meant so much to me that the girls got us matching sets. It was so sweet of them, I thought,” Miranda trailed off, handing the black set back to Andréa.

“It was sweet of them. They were picking them out and arguing over colors and which one of them should get which color. They didn’t want to be left out if you chose to wear one color over the other but they weren’t sure they should spend so much and get six sets. I told them I had intended to get you a gift as well. Cassidy, being Cassidy, somehow convinced Caroline and me that it made more sense to buy eight of them so we would all have them. She seem to think you think I’m special,” Andy laughed self-depricatingly.

“You are.” Miranda stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around the other woman’s shoulders, pressing her face into Andy’s neck. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Miranda,” Andy sighed into the soft, white hair tickling her cheek. “I have some tank tops that you could wear underneath if you wanted to change. I know you’re been in the outfit since early this morning and it’s nearing ten o’clock at night.”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Miranda’s voice sounded suspiciously scratchy as she gave Andréa one last squeeze before stepping back away from the young woman.

“Here, you can have the pink one. I’ve always liked this pink and gray together.”

“Really, Andréa, this isn’t pink and gray; it’s champagne and platinum,” Miranda scoffed. When Andy looked up, surprised, she saw a little smirk on Miranda’s face and the older woman made a circling motion with her finger, silently telling her assistant to turn around. “Thank you, Andréa. This will be much more comfortable.” _Too bad I didn’t bring socks with me._

Hearing the sounds of Miranda’s clothing hitting the floor behind her, Andy had to force herself not to look. _Don’t turn around, don’t turn around, don’t turn around. She’ll fire you. She’ll kill you. Oh, damn, that was definitely the sound of her bra unhooking. Think of the girls, Andy! They need you both focused on them right now. Figure it out, Andy. Think of the girls!_

Miranda was fighting her own internal battle not to sneak a peek at her assistant. Reminding herself that it would be unprofessional and could be considered sexual harassment cooled her ardor quickly.

The editor finished first and proceeded to quickly and carefully place her clothing in her suitcase before stowing it between the seats across from them. When she stood up to face the other woman again, she found her pressing something into her hand. Looking down, she realized it was a pair of thick, comfy socks. Miranda simply smiled at Andréa again, impressed and touched that the younger woman could know her so well.

“You always have thick socks on when I see you at home, so I threw a few extra pairs in just in case.”

“In case I needed them?”

“Yes.”

After a short pause, Miranda changed the subject, “Andréa, will you sit on the couch with me and try to figure out who would do this to my babies? Do grab your laptop.”

“Okay, but can you tell me something?” Andy asked while she knelt, getting her computer out.

“I shall try.”

“When have you ever uttered something foolish? I’ve never heard you ever say anything you don’t mean.”

“You certainly have. I called you the smart, fat girls. I was being foolish. You are stunning, Andréa Sachs, not fat. I also was a bit rude to you last night and this afternoon. Both foolish. I appreciate you and everything you do for me and my children, my babies.”

Andy stood quickly, putting her arm across Miranda’s shoulders, “I know they’ll be okay, Miranda. I can just feel it. We’ll get them back as soon as we get home.” Andy was murmuring into Miranda’s ear and placed a gentle kiss on the other woman’s temple.

Before either woman could continue, both of their phones alerted them to incoming text messages.

_**Help! He’s making us switch cars. We don’t know what car we’ll be in. I’m in the bathroom at a gas station sending this. He won’t let us take our backpacks so Caro’s phone is still in our car. He wouldn’t let us go to the bathroom together. Idk what to do. He knows we have this phone so he might take it away but I’m gonna delete all our texts so he won’t see them. If I go to the Maps App I think it will turn on the GPS thing so I’ll do that now so even if he takes it at least you’ll know where we were. I think it might be Dad’s fault that this guy took us. I’m gonna call 911 before I go back outside. We love you Momsy.** _

“Oh, Cass,” Miranda started to cry again. Heaving, wracking sobs full of the terror of losing her children were shaking her body. All Andy could do was hold on as she sat on the couch, arms full of Miranda.

**In New York**

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“Um, my name is Cassidy Priestly and, um, I think I’m being kidnapped.”

“Young lady, it is not appropriate to prank call this number. Is there an emergency or not?”

“I, um, I don’t know,” Cassidy started crying, “I was at school and then when we went outside our car was there to pick us up but it was a different driver and he said to get in and our regular driver was fired and he said he’s supposed to take us to our dad’s house be we’re supposed to be with our step-dad and now we’re at a gas station and he won’t let us use the bathroom together and-”

“Now listen here, it’s not an emergency to go to your father’s house. Sometimes adults have to change their plans. You don’t call this number again unless it’s a real emergency!”

With that, the emergency operator hung up on Cassidy, not understanding that the girl was panicking.

“Monica, what’s your call?” The supervisor asked the operator.

“Nothing, just some rich kid who doesn’t want her new driver to take her to Daddy’s house.”

The operator and her supervisor rolled their eyes, “great way to start today’s shift, right, Mon-”

The next operator over interrupted, “Monica, what was her name? Was she alone?”

“What? Why?”

“There’s an Amber Alert out on a pair of twins who were picked up at school by an unidentified white male posing as their driver?”

“Oh, shit,” Monica whispered, frantically trying to pull up the information on her last call.

**In Paris**

“Miranda,” Andy spoke quietly but surely, “I’m just answering Cass to tell her they have to try to get away from him and call 9-1-1. Then I’m going to call the townhouse and let them know about the text and the GPS.”

Miranda kept sobbing. Her mind going over all of the reasons her daughters were taken. _This is my fault. I should have stayed home. What kind of mother leaves her children during school testing? What kind of mother leaves her children at all? What was I thinking? I don’t deserve them. James should have custody. Not me. I don’t deserve to be a mother._

Keeping one arm securely wrapped around the distraught woman, Andy quickly sent the message to Cassidy. Watching to make sure the text went through, Andy distractedly ran the fingers of her left hand through Miranda’s hair. It had always been calming to her when her mother ran her fingers through Andy’s dark brown tresses and Andy subconsciously tried to help sooth Miranda. As her phone sent the message, Andy used Miranda’s to call the townhouse, waiting for someone to answer.

“Miranda?” She heard.

“This is Andréa Sachs, Miranda’s assistant. Are the police there?”

“I’d like to speak to my wife,” came the angry tone through the earpiece.

“Stephen, she can’t talk right now. We just got another text from Cassidy saying that the driver is making them switch cars and not letting Caroline take her phone. Please, let me speak with the police.”

Andy heard some background noise and then listened while Stephen relayed the information she had just shared. A new voice came on the line, “Andréa? This is Detective Benson, can you tell me exactly what information the child has given you?”

“Of course. Cass’ text said that they were at a gas station, he was making them switch cars, she didn’t know what car they were switching to, Caro’s phone and their backpacks were being left in their car and she was going to call 9-1-1 after she sent the text.”

“Is that absolutely everything? I need everything.”

“Oh! Also, that she was turning on the GPS in her phone, but he knew she had it so she thinks he might take it away. Um, and that she thinks it’s her dad’s fault this is happening. And he wouldn’t let them go to the bathroom together. And that they love their mom.” Hearing Andréa say that caused Miranda’s sobbing to begin anew. Andy pulled Miranda in a little tighter against herself and pressed her cheek to the top of the silver-haired head before continuing, “I think that’s absolutely everything. I can forward it to Stephen’s cell phone and you can see it, if that would be better.”

“Yes, thank you, that would be the best option. Is Ms. Priestly there? We thought she was on her way back to the US.”

“Yes, Detective, um, she’s right here but that last text message kind of got to her. She’s pretty upset right now, that’s why I called. We’re in the process of taking off from de Gaulle right now. We won’t be there for another eight or nine hours. Apparently there's a headwind that’s going to slow us down a bit. Miranda’s driver, Roy, will be meeting us at LaGuardia and we will head immediately to the townhouse. Unless, of course, there’s some further development?”

“I’ll have a car escort you here, to the Priestly residence, from the airport. Andréa, a lot can happen in eight hours. I realize that you two are on an international flight but I would really like to be able to keep in touch in case anything...comes up.”

“I’ll check the phone every thirty minutes. Just make sure to call or text both of us to be positive we get it. Technically, Stephen can make decisions in Miranda’s absence but it would be best if it is at all possible for Miranda to have the final say.”

“I don’t think, uh, well,” the detective trailed off and Andy heard the background noise fading out and the quiet sound of a door closing.

Andy tensed, causing Miranda to tense, as she asked, “What is it, Detective Benson?”

“Stephen doesn’t appear to be in any condition to make decisions.”

“Shit,” Andy cursed quietly. “Okay, we’re going to be taking off in a few minutes so I have to turn our phones off. After we’re in the air at a safe altitude, I’ll turn Miranda’s phone back on. Both of our batteries are running a little low so I’ll see if I can charge mine while hers is on and then I’ll switch them. Just call. If anything comes up, if there are any questions, concerns, thoughts, theories, call us.”

“Thank you. I will. I just want to get these girls home to their mom.”

“Me, too. Have you heard from James? Their father?”

“No, we haven’t gotten in touch with him, yet.”

“Did you try his wife, his manager, his mother? Please, we need to know if this is his doing. Also, I’m going to call Max, the girls’ regular driver, after we can turn our phones back on.” The pilot announced the impending take-off. “I have to hang up, Detective, we’re taking off.”

“Talk soon,” the other woman said as she hung up.

Andy turned their phones off and went back to the business of calming Miranda while she waited to make the next phone call.

**In New York**

Cassidy stood in the bathroom, tears dripping off of her young face as she stared at her phone. _What should I do? I can’t leave Caro out there alone any more but I haven't saved us yet._ Cassidy turned on the GPS in her phone and stuck it in the waistband of the back of her skirt, pulling her school sweater over it. She washed her hands and face and stalled for a moment, hoping someone else would enter the bathroom and she could ask for help. It was too early, though. Half past four on a weekday afternoon did not make for crowded gas stations. _I hope Mom and Andy know what to do._ The eleven year-old left the bathroom and headed toward her sister in the parking lot.

“Give me your phone,” the driver said roughly as Cassidy got nearer to him.

“Oh, my God, I left it in the bathroom! I’m gonna go back and get it,” Cass took a step backward.

“Stop! You left it in the bathroom?” He asked.

Cassidy nodded, eyes wide. The large man narrowed his beady eyes at her, thinking about what to do. He came to some sort of internal conclusion, “I think you are going to stay right here with us. You should really be more careful with your things, girl.” He grabbed her arm again, moving her next to her twin. “Don’t move.” The intimidating adult walked around to the front of the car and proceeded to wash the windshield with the provided washer.

“Cassidy Priestly,” Caroline whispered sharply, “I can not believe you would be so irresponsible as to leave our only means of communication inside a gas station restroom. Now what are we supposed to do? How is Mom ever going to find us?”

“Caro, chill out! It’s in my skirt, I stuck it there so he wouldn’t know I still had it. I was afraid he’d try to take it away from us and I was right. I turned the GPS thingy on so they could track us. Just make sure it doesn’t show from the back when you get a chance,” Cassidy whispered back. She knew her sister was prone to panicking so Cassidy had to make absolutely certain she stayed calm. She had to protect Caroline and find a way out of the situation. That was what big sisters were for and she was the big sister - even if it was only by minutes.

“Okay, I’ll check as soon as I can.”

“Shh,” Cass answered, hearing his steps coming closer.

He seized Cassidy’s left arm and Caroline’s right as a battered gray sedan pulled up in front of them. “Here you go, they’re your brats now.” He shoved the girls hastily into the backseat, closing the door quickly behind them. The new driver had the front windows down and chuckled when the man stuck his face in on the passenger side. “So, where’s my paycheck?”

The laughter was gone as quickly as it had come and the woman in the front seat looked sideways at the girls before carefully answering, “I believe Ms. Priestly pays her employees twice monthly on the fifteenth and thirtieth. I’m sure you’ll get your check next week,” she ground out.

_Ms. Priestly?_ Both girls thought at the same time. The intense eye contact between the sisters served for conversation. They knew for certain that neither of these people worked for their mother and they were pretty sure they didn’t work for their father either. No one called her Ms. Priestly. The danger they were in was suddenly very, very real.

**Over the Atlantic**

Andy had not yet been able to plug her phone in as she was loath to let go of the shivering editor but she knew she had to. “Miranda, I’m going to plug in my phone and get my laptop so we can work through this. What can I get for you while I’m up?”

“Please,” Miranda whispered, “I can’t. Please.”

“Okay, don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. Watch me, okay? I’m going to stay right here next to you while I get everything set,” Andy said soothingly while sitting up to reach for her messenger bag.

“No!” Miranda said emphatically. She looked up into Andréa’s surprised eyes and realized she had nearly shouted. “We are about to take off, Andréa, you could be injured if you are not seated during lift off,” Miranda delivered the sentence so ardently, the younger woman simply nodded and leaned back to stay next to Miranda.

“You’re right, of course, thank you,” she answered quietly.

It seemed that Miranda’s sobbing and subsided for the moment but Andy still did not let go of her. She kept up the rhythmic stroking of Miranda’s hair with her left hand and held her phone in her right. Miranda, too, kept a tight grip on her cell phone, feeling as though it was the only connection she had with her daughters. Well, the phone and Andréa. As the aircraft sped faster and faster down the runway, Miranda’s right hand gripped Andy’s thigh tighter and tighter. Only when they were finally leveling out in the sky did she release the other woman’s leg, rubbing a bit where she had held, as if realizing just how tightly she had squeezed.

“I’ve never enjoyed taking off,” the editor admitted. Her brain was clearly scattered.

“Mmm, I’m not exactly surprised,” Andy answered while keeping one hand on Miranda’s leg and stretching for her messenger bag. She rummaged through the bag for her cell phone charger and her laptop, power cord and charger for Miranda’s phone as well. “Miranda? Where’s your phone? I need to plug them both in to charge.”

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why are you not surprised? Here, take my phone, though I see no outlets near us and I will not be parted from those phones just now,” Miranda said, glancing at the objects in Andy’s hand. She quickly glanced again, tilting her head as she really looked at the other woman’s phone and then her face.

“I’ll explain later,” Andy begged, turning bright red and praying Miranda didn’t question her more just yet.

“Indeed.”

The women fell silent, both standing and looking around for somewhere to charge their phones. As Andy headed back toward the kitchen area, her phone beeped at her. Looking down at the screen, she felt Miranda at her shoulder. At the same moment, the women saw that the battery was alerting them of its lack of power. Thinking about where one might find an outlet on a plane like that one, Andy thought she could check the kitchen.

“I don’t really want to spend the flight sitting on the floor in here, but I’m sure there will be outlets in the kitchen area, Miranda.”

“If that is the only area with outlets,” Miranda answered threateningly.

“Can you just check the bedroom? I’ll plug my phone in here so it doesn’t die but can you just see if there’s anywhere else?”

“Plug your phone in and come with me; you are holding both devices right now.”

Andy did as she was told and headed into the bedroom with Miranda.


	3. Frustration

“Andréa, look. Outlets on either side of the bed. Plug in my my phone,” Miranda quietly ordered.

Andy took a noisy breath through her nose as she walked toward the outlet to follow her boss’ instructions. Then she heard it. A quiet, “please” from Miranda.

“Of course, Miranda. No problem,” Andy said calmly as she plugged Miranda’s phone in on one side of the bed. She then walked around to the other side to plug in her phone and the power cord for her laptop. With a quick glance around the tiny cabin, Andy saw a closet that likely had extra pillows and blankets. Pleased to see that her speculation was correct, she reached in and grabbed two of each. “Here, Miranda, let’s sit on the bed and start figuring this out.”

When Miranda didn’t answer, Andy looked at the older woman to find her still standing next to the bed, playing with her phone. Curious, the brunette peaked at what Miranda was doing and her heart clenched painfully to see her boss scrolling through pictures of her daughters. “This was from our vacation last summer.”

“You all look very happy together. Are you going to go back to Virginia this summer?”

Miranda’s chin began to quiver, “I hadn’t really thought about it but yes. Yes, I want to. I’ll take them to Virginia every summer for the rest of my life if I just get them back.”

“You will, Miranda. Remember? I promised. I’m Andréa the Mighty. I make the impossible possible for you. We will do this,” Andy finished with such strength and conviction in her voice that Miranda couldn’t help but feel just a little bit calmer. “Now, come sit with me and let’s get to work. You have a brilliant brain in that head and I need it focused.”

Nodding, Miranda slid onto the bed, propping pillows behind her so she could lean back against the headboard and draping one of the blankets over her crossed legs. She patted the space next to her with her left hand, indicating she wished Andréa to sit there, while she gently rubbed her temple with her other hand.

“Just a moment, Miranda,” Andy said quietly, “I’ll just get my laptop booted up and I”ll be right back.” Andy quickly walked from the room and Miranda heard her moving around in the kitchen area. Just as Miranda was about to call out for the younger woman, she appeared in the doorway holding a covered tray.

“What do you have there?”

“Water, ibuprofen, coffee, and some snacks. I know you’re getting a headache and that won’t help us at all.”

Miranda only barely managed not to drop her jaw in shock. “Thank you. Andréa, really, thank you.” Miranda watched the other woman place the tray on the nightstand nearest Miranda taking only a bottle of water with her around the bed to sit down.

“You’re welcome. Now, take some ibuprofen so we can get working. That coffee won’t stay center-of-the-sun-hot forever, you know,” Andy smiled a bit at her boss.

After entering her password, Andy paused and pursed her full lips. Nodding to herself, she opened a spreadsheet and began labeling various columns. Every few moments, she would pause briefly and then type again. When she turned the screen toward Miranda, the older woman was not totally surprised by what she saw.

“Name, location, date of last contact, financials, contacts, intelligence,” Miranda read, “I suppose this is to be our working list of suspects?”

“Yes and we’ll be able to email it to the detective who’s at the townhouse.”

“Well done, Andréa. With whom do we begin?”

“I’m sorry, Miranda. I know this is going to upset you but I think we have to start with Hames Harper. I know he’s their father but Cass said she thinks he might be behind it.”

“It makes sense, do not worry about insulting anyone right now. Emily, for example, won’t have really kidnapped my children but she is certainly a disgruntled employee and perhaps discussing her contacts will inadvertently lead us to the real culprit.”

With that, the two women began to compile a hefty list of names.

**In the car**

“Where are you taking us?”

“Your father’s house. Be quiet back there.”

The twins followed her instructions for only a few minutes before Cassidy took a deep breath and started talking again. “You look really familiar. How long have you worked for Mom?”

“I said to be quiet,” the driver growled through clenched teeth.

“I know you did and I’ll be quiet as soon as I figure out why you look so familiar. You’re not skinny enough to be a model and you’re not pretty enough to be an assistant so what is it?”

“That was rude!” Caroline was shocked by her sister’s frank (albeit true) assessment, “Andy would be so upset with you!”

“Mom would have said the same thing and you know it.”

“Yes and Andy would be upset with her for it, too!”

“Whatever,” Cassidy egged her sister on. She was hoping an argument between them would irritate the driver enough to get some answers.

“Cassidy! We do not say whatever! If you don’t stop it this instant I’m going to tell Andy and Mom on you!”

“I thought your stepfather’s name was Stephen. Is your mom on husband number three already? Ruining Jimmy’s life wasn’t enough for her?”

“Jimmy?!” The girls said together.

**At the townhouse**

The formal living room in the Priestly townhouse no longer resembled the spotless décor of Miranda’s taste. Instead, it looked like a quasi-clean workroom in a police department. There were quite a few coffee cups strewn about and almost every horizontal surface was covered in papers and pictures. The coffee table was ground zero for serious suspects. Unfortunately, there weren’t many of them.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Detective Benson repeated, staring out the window into the twilight. “The girls were taken at roughly three o’clock. Why haven’t we heard anything about ransom? It’s been hours. This has to be a ransom case. The parents are too high profile for a kidnapping and the plan was too meticulous to be a sudden decision. The kidnapper had a termination letter printed on appropriate stationary for the current driver. He knew he could get the girls away from their stepfather. He knew what time to be at the school to get their regular parking spot. Who is he?”

“Talking to yourself, Liv?” another detective, Fin, joked with her. “That’s not a good sign.”

“I just don’t understand why we haven’t gotten a ransom call, yet. It’s been hours, Fin.”

“Olivia, you know kidnappers sometimes like to take their time before they call. They want to build up the panic so the parents will do anything and pay anything to get their kids back. Just keep thinking and waiting. We’ll get them back.”

“I know, I just-” but before Olivia could finish the thought, the phone rang. The brunette shook Stephen awake and handed him the phone demanding he answer.

“‘Lo? Who’s ‘is?” his voice was gravelly and indistinct.

“Stephen? It’s James. What the hell is going on?”

**Over the Atlantic**

“I don’t really think any of the people who’ve worked for you, no matter how embarrassingly fired they were, would have been able to put together this level of subterfuge, Miranda.”

“I completely agree. Unless they had help,” Miranda answered her assistant as she removed her glasses and rubbed her forehead once again.

“We’ve been at this for an hour and a half, let’s take a short break and refresh our brains. I’m going to call Detective Benson and see if she has any news for us. I mean, for you,” Andy’s cheeks tinged pink as she finished. She turned to reach for her phone when she felt a cool hand on her forearm.

“For us. You’re invested in the return of my babies, are you not?” Andy nodded. “Then you will check for news for us.”

As Andy sent the call through to the townhouse, Miranda stood. At Andy’s slightly questioning look - which would normally have received a scathing remark - the older woman said, “I am far too restless to sit any longer.”

“Hello?”

“Mr. Tomlinson, this is Andy Sachs, Miranda’s assistant. Is Detective Benson still there?”

After a pause and some indistinct voices in the background, “Yes, Andy? Are you okay? I’ve been trying to call for an hour!”

“What? Why? We have no missed calls or anything. We’ve had both of our phones on the whole time!”

“We heard from James Harper. He’s away on business or something and he says he has no idea what’s going on. He’s flying home in the morning.”

“Okay, one sec,” Andy put the phone away from her mouth to share the information with Miranda, “I was just told that James has no idea what’s going on, he’s away on business or something and he’ll be flying home in the morning.”

“Home where? Home in Queens? Home in the Hamptons? Home in Saratoga Springs? Home in LA?”

“Detective, which home is he flying to tomorrow? He’s got quite a few,” Andy asked.

“Oh. He just said home. He did say he would call when he was close to the townhouse, though, so I assume he’s coming to New York. We offered to meet him at the airport and drive him here but he said he didn’t want to waste manpower.”

“We don’t need to be met at the airport, either, if it’s going to take anyone away from actually doing something that could get the girls back.”

“No, we need to get Mrs. Priestly-”

“Miranda.”

“Sorry, Miranda back here and talking to us as soon as possible.”

“We’ve amassed a list of people who have been professionally...uh...disgruntled with Miranda.”

“Can you email it to me?”

“We haven’t finished it yet. It’s harder than we thought it would be. The problem is that not as many people have been fired or embarrassed in the last few months and I wasn’t around before then to help remember them or who they’re connected to.”

“Just send us what you have so we can start ruling people out. If you have anyone you think is particularly interesting, let me know.”

“Okay, I’m putting it in an email right now, I just need an address for where to send it.”

Olivia gave Andy her email address and the document was sent.

“Andréa,” Miranda said quietly.

“Hold on, detective,” Andy immediately said as she looked up at Miranda.

“Am I to understand that James heard the girls were kidnapped, understands the level of deceptions the criminals used, and is not flying home immediately?”

“Detective Benson,” Andy spoke into the phone, maintaining her eye contact with Miranda, “I have to ask, did you explain the situation to James Harper? Everything? The letter to Max, the appropriately dressed driver at the school, the change of vehicle?”

“Yes, Miss Sachs, we did. I did. Personally. I personally explained everything to him on the phone. He said he would get the first flight back he could but it would probably not get him to us before early morning.”

Andy sighed in relief and shared the information with her boss...who did not look relieved.

**In the car**

The girls sat quietly for a long, tense moment. They looked at one another in silence, hoping to communicate everything they could not say aloud in front of the woman driving them.

“Don’t you know Andy?” Cassidy asked loudly.

The driver answered without thinking it through, “I can’t keep track of all of your mother’s boyfriends. She’s with a different guy every day.”

_Oh, my, God. This woman is the biggest moron I’ve ever met._

“You realize that’s for work, right? She’s seen with all these different men - most of whom are gay - because she works for a fashion magazine. Well, she pretty much _is_ a fashion magazine. I mean, _Runway_ couldn’t really function without our mother,” Caroline answered.

“That’s what she wants you to think,” the driver said, “I know better. I see her in the backseat with all those guys. Doing terrible things. Andy’s just the latest.”

“So, you mean, you drive our mother around all the time?”

“Every day.”

“Mmm,” Cassidy chimed back in, “I guess she fired Rex, too, then?”

The girls waited in silence to see if she would take the bait.

“Her old driver? Yeah, yeah, she did.”

Cassidy looked out the window, unwilling to let her sister see her cry again. Their situation was getting more and more dire and she just could not figure out a way to save herself or her sister. Knowing the woman in the front seat was lying made her feel better and worse at the same time. Caroline’s fingers squeezed hers, a gentle reminder that she was not alone.

After a few minutes of silence, Cassidy spoke again, “I thought you said we were going to Dad’s Hampton house. We’re not, are we?”

“No. We’re going to the house in the Spring. I thought I told you to shut up,” the driver said menacingly.

“Yes, you did. I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m confused; I thought Dad was getting rid of this house. Remember, Caro? Dad said Saratoga Springs was over. Like it’s not hot enough to be here, anymore.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He said he’s going to stay in Queens most of the time.”

“Yeah, and it was so weird, right? Cuz he said it in front of Mom and he never tells Mom anything.”

“Well,” the woman said, “I guess he changed his mind. He does have family here after all.”

**In New York**

Olivia and Fin poured over the email from Andy and Miranda.

“Fin,” Olivia said suddenly, sitting up straight.

“What? Whatcha got?”

“The girls - they said they thought their father was involved, right?”

“Yeah,” he stretched the word out slowly, questioning her.

“How? Through friends or family. We need to be looking at **his** contacts. Not Miranda’s! Not if he’s the one involved.”

“Okay, you do that. I’ll stay on this end. You call those two back,” Fin encouraged.

“On it. Then I’ll call Cabot and see what we can do about tracing James Harper’s recent calls, texts, and bank accounts.”

“Don’t call,” Alex Cabot said as she walked into the dining room where Olivia and Fin had been working, “I’m here. Who’s James Harper and why are we tracing him?”

Olivia already had her cell phone to her ear calling Andy back and just pointed to Fin, hoping the other two would get the message. They did and Alex nodded and started taking notes about the situation to try to figure out how she could make it happen. She was half-listening to Olivia asking someone for James’ family tree and a list of friends.

“Andy, just email me a list of family members with their last known address or even just their town or state. But I need James’ family, his wife’s family, and his other ex-wife’s family and then the same thing for his friends and even any close business associates.”

“I’ll try,” Andy answered, “but wouldn’t it be easier if you asked James?”

“Yes. But we’re asking you,” Olivia said with a quiet seriousness in her tone.

“Oh. Oh, shit. You do think he’s involved. Like really involved. Like, really, for real, involved? We’ll have it sent as soon as possible.” Andy hung up.

“Benson, may I speak with you? In private,” Alex questioned.

Nodding, Olivia led her to Miranda’s private study down the hall.

 _Dang_ , Fin thought, _Cabot’s got her bitch-face on. Better you than me, Liv._

**Somewhere over the Atlantic**

“What is this about James, Andréa? How involved? What did she say?”

“She didn’t actually **say** anything, Miranda. She just wants us to send her the names of James’ family, his in-laws, his ex-in-laws, friends, and business associates...and their last known location if we have that information.”

“If he has anything to do with this I’ll kill him,” Miranda practically growled.

“Miranda, if he had anything to do with this, I’ll help you kill him. Now. Family?”

“Yes, okay. Let’s see. His mother is still alive, however she lives in a sunset facility and likely does not even recall that she has two granddaughters. His sister, Sarah Harper, never married as far as I know. The last time she was mentioned, she was living near or in Saratoga Springs. In a...mobile home community. It was called, uh, Louden Pines and I’ve never seen it nor have I any idea whether or not she still lives there.”

“Okay, mother’s name?”

“Rebecca Harper.”

“Rebecca Harper, Alzheimer’s, not likely involved. Sister, Sarah Harper, not married at last contact, Louden Pines, Saratoga Springs, New York. Great. Any others?”

“Yes, two brothers. Peter Harper, he married, uh, what was her name. Dammit, Miranda, get your head together.”

Andy reached across the space between them on the bed to gently rest her hand atop Miranda’s. When the older woman looked at her with tears, once again, shimmering in her blue eyes, Andy’s heart clenched. “Just breathe, Miranda. Let’s get out what information you know and send it and then go back and add more later. Okay?”

After a moment, Miranda sighed and nodded, “Peter married some girl from college and they stayed in southern California after they graduated. They are both teachers in the area and have a few children. All boys if I remember correctly.”

“Peter Harper, married, multiple children, southern California, town?” Andy looked up at Miranda.

“Uh, near the Redlands. Near the University of Redlands. Where they went to school.”

“Okay, got it. Next?”

“Simon Harper. Married Jessabelle Winchester to the intense dislike of his family. They moved to Paris years ago.”

“Winchester? Like a real Winchester?”

“Yes, Andréa, a real Winchester. I have no idea if they have children. James’ mother was always religious, obviously, look at the names of her offspring but as she grew older and more detached from current events she became increasingly perturbed about anyone who wasn’t strictly following her prescribed religion. I think she was Baptist at some point and Catholic at another but I cannot quite recall. She would not tolerate her son marrying someone whose name was seen as a derivative of Jezebel, even though it was not. She began calling Simon by a different name when he refused to break things off with Jessabelle. She called him Judas Iscariot. That was right around the time I got pregnant with the girls. I think I may have blocked a lot of that time from my memories. It was...traumatic in some ways. My family was - well, that’s a story for another time. Did you get all that about Simon?” At Andy’s nod, Miranda continued, “Good. Now, James’ second ex-wife was names Elizabeth. Which, as you can guess, was a much better fit with his family. They were married within months of our divorce; the twins weren’t even a year old yet. At first, she wanted nothing to do with them. She was quite intent, if I recall, on having her own children and not Satan’s Spawn. However, when after, oh, I don’t know, about a year and a half, she was told she was unable to bear children, mine suddenly became much more intriguing. She decided James should fight me for custody of my two year old twins. You must understand, Andréa, I wasn’t actively trying to keep them from him, for two years he had never sought out time with them. The custody arrangement was such that he was to have them for one week per month but it had been over a year since he had taken them overnight when suddenly he was suing me for full custody and claiming I had refused him access to my babies. Luckily, I had forwarded every email from him to my lawyer, there’s a reason I pay such a hefty retainer. Every time he emailed to cancel his visits I had it recorded. The times he just did not bother to show up, I would email him and forward his replies to my lawyer. I never called him. I wanted everything in writing.”

Andy was no longer typing. She was listening to Miranda recount these intense details from her past and her babies’ past that could hold a clue. On all the procedural dramas Andy had ever watched, the clues were always dropped where you least expected them, so Andy remained poised over her laptop keyboard, staring at Miranda in fascination, absorbing every detail of the history she was recounting.

“When Elizabeth started pushing him to fight for custody, he pulled back from her, I think. He was too intimidated to attempt to take me on in court again. The first time had been such a blow to his ego. I walked away with everything of mine, nearly everything of ours, and a good portion of what was his. Oh, he had his career and I didn’t touch most of his earnings from that. I just went for the properties I loved the most. The house in the Hamptons, the one in Virginia, and, of course, the townhouse in Manhattan. And his car. I think that bothered him more. He loved that car. I did it just to be spiteful. He had embarrassed me by sleeping with Elizabeth when I was pregnant and I went after his most treasured possession, too. I think some part of him took a very, very long time to forgive me for that. It helped that I gave it back recently, I think. Or, at least, I thought. Until now. What if he saw that as a moment of weakness? What if he saw that stupid, simpering getsure as some sign that I would be a good ransom target? Look - I gave up a car I fought tooth and nail for. Maybe you just have to grab my babies and I’ll give up even more.”

“Miranda, no. I don’t think anyone would see that as a sign of weakness. You were being nice.”

“Then why? Why would he take my babies? Why would he do this to us?”

“Maybe he didn’t. Maybe it was someone else and has nothing at all to do with him. Let’s keep going through the list.”

“I don’t know anything about Elizabeth’s family. I can’t even recall her maiden name.”

“That’s okay, I’m sure Olivia will be able to find that right away.”

“Yes. Yes, you’re right. Next would be his current wife, Jennifer. Jenny, I believe the girls call her. They have a son, Christopher, who is four. She and Christopher occasionally travel with Hames but more often they stay in their townhouse in Queens. Christopher loves when the girls visit. They also enjoy time with him. Jennifer is a good step-mother to my babies and a better match for James than I could ever have been. She works in their house and is always home when he gets there, or so say my girls. I can’t imagine that Jennifer would have anything to do with this if for no other reason than her son loves the girls too much to want them to be traumatized by anything. Her maiden name is Tate, i believe and her parents are both gone. She was an only child if what the girls say is true.”

“That was great, Miranda. Lots of good, useful information. I’m going to send that to Olivia and then we can start on his list of friends and business associates.”

“Okay, I’m going to close my eyes and try to remember any of those. It’s been nearly twelve years since he and I were in any kind of similar social circle.”

Hearing that, Andy included it in the email to Olivia. Better that the detective know in advance that Miranda had no valuable input in terms of friends or business.

**In Paris**

Though it was past midnight in France, no one attending Fashion Week was asleep. Most of them were still at various after parties indulging in sundry activities. So Nigel was surprised to hear a knock at his door. Looking out the peephole, he felt his stomach twist so violently he thought he might faint. Could he get away with ignoring the antagonistic, little man on the other side? Another knock. Louder. No. No ignoring possible. He must have seen Nigel return from the airport a few hours ago and noted that he did not leave again. Still fully dressed, Nigel had been alternately sitting on his couch with his head in his hands and pacing the room studying various schedules to see when exactly he needed to be where in the morning. He turned his head away from the door and loudly answered the third knock with an irritate “just a moment!”

Before the door was even completely open, the annoying intruder was stepping inside with a finger wagging in Nigel’s face. “Now you listen here, Kipling, I know you’re hiding something for her and I want to know what it is. Where is she? I just heard she left a show early. Does she really think her stupid ploy today with save her? She’s gone as soon as we get back. She’s nothing but bad press.”

“Well, Irv _ing_ , do come in.”

“Damn right, I’ll come in, I’m paying for this room after all.”

“You are? Silly me, I thought _Runway_ was paying for this room as it is in our annual budget to attend different Fashion Week events throughout the season.”

“And where do you think your budget comes from? Me!”

“Actually, it comes from Elias-Clarke, for which you may be the CEO and Chairman of the Board, but you are not in actuality, interchangeable.”

“Where is she?”

“Did you ask her?”

“She didn’t answer her phone. That’s gutsy, I’ll give her that. Pull that stunt this morning and ignore my calls hours later! Who the hell does she think she is?”

Nigel, looking for a distraction from the irritation voice, turned the television on. Oh, how he wished he hadn’t.

“Miranda Priestly was seen rushing from Fashion Week to the American Embassy earlier this evening,” some little BBC reporter was announcing, “did something set off the tempestuous American Editor in Chief? No one knows but you can bet our cohorts across the pond will be all over it by the time she lands in New York in Donatella Versace’s private jet!”

“Wait just a moment, Moira, we have breaking news from those cohorts just now, we’re going to bring in a live freed from the States,” the man sitting behind the anchor desk said seriously.

“What the hell is she doing?!” Irv shouted so loudly Nigel was sure he’d be getting a call from security.

“Our photographers at TMZ routinely check in with the _Runway_ gang to get some pictures of fashion’s latest and greatest out and about. Today, when Beef happened to be driving by the school the little dragons go to, he noticed a new driver picking up the twin terrors. Did the Dragon Lady fire a driver? She’s actually never done that! She’s had the same driver for as long as we’ve been photographing her! Our adventurous reporter followed the new driver, just to see if he could catch a glimpse of the White Queen, of course,” Nigel snorted at that, “When he noticed the car was driving away from the infamous Priestly townhouse. Now, we can’t tell you where the car ended up going since we are now involved with the illustrious NYPD’s investigation into the apparent...wait for it, folks...the apparent kidnapping of the dragonettes! Can you believe someone would dare kidnap Miranda Priestly’s daughters? We’re paparazzi and we would never even stoop so low! Anyway, no good pictures were taken. Okay, that’s it for the nightly TMZ coverage of Miranda “The Ice Queen” Priestly,” the creepy reporter from the celebrity-harassing TMZ group finished up with a smile.

Nigel sat heavily on the couch again, “I don’t understand. Do they think this is a joke? The girls are missing. Missing!”

Irv had yet to comment. When Nigel remembered his presence and turned to look at him he found Irv pale and pasty white behind him. “I have to go, Nigel. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“No! You listen here, Irv, don’t you mess with Miranda right now. You have no idea what she’s going through. Her girls,” he got out before he was too choked up to speak.

“I won’t. I swear. I actually do know what she’s going through. My son. Twenty-three years ago. My son. Never came home. I was only thirty. He was seven. I do know. Whatever she needs, Nigel. Whatever help we can give her is hers. I have to go. My wife. This is going to destroy her,” Irv left with that.

**In New York**

Standing in Miranda’s study, Olivia turned towards Alex, “Hey, what’s going on?”

“I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you’re okay, sweetie. I know these cases get to you so much,” Alex said in nearly a whisper.

“I’m okay, Lex. Honestly. I don’t know why but I just feel like this is going to turn out okay. It just has that feeling. I know I’m missing something. There’s something I’m not getting right now but I know as soon as I figure it out, those girls will be home.”

“It’s not just you. You don’t have to figure everything out, Liv. We have a whole team on this. Myself included. Don’t put this all on your shoulders.”

Olivia stepped slowly forward, giving Alex time to stop her. When she wasn’t stopped, the detective put her strong arms around the attorney’s slim waist and rested her forehead on Alex’s shoulder. With a deep, heavy sigh, Olivia knew Alex was right. “I’ll try not to.” She turned her head slightly and gently pressed a kiss to the hollow between her lover’s clavicles.

“Mmm, good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“As soon as this case is over, we’re taking our vacation days. I don’t care if everyone notices that we’ve taken them together. I need some time away with you.”

“I’m just going to ignore all the words in that sentence except ‘I need you’ okay?” Olivia smiled at the taller woman.

“I do need you, Olivia. I need you healthy and whole and in my life.”

The two shared a sweet kiss as their lips met quickly. “Okay, let’s go see what I’m missing. I should have something from Andy by now and Fin and I really do need to talk to you about that warrant.”

“Let’s get on it, love.”


	4. Shock

**Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean**

“I can’t do this,” Miranda’s voice trembled.

“You can, Miranda. Just try to remember anyone he mentioned...anyone the girls mentioned.”

“Jennifer does not allow James to go out with friends when the girls are there.”

“Okay, and you can’t remember any friends from your time with him?”

“Yes, but I…”

“You what, Miranda?” Andy asked, turning toward the other woman. “I’m not going to judge you, I just want to help you.”

“I turned his friends against him when I divorced him. For no good reason other than I wanted him to feel as lonely as I felt. I told them he was horrible, I did my best to make him seem like the worst husband and father in the world. It worked. He has no friends left from that time and I don’t know his current friends because Jennifer is so petrified of being left home alone with my babies.”

“Okay, I’m not even going to touch that one right now. Let’s move on to business associates. Do you know any of those?”

“Only those known by everyone else who is familiar with the music industry. He doesn’t tour with his little band but he does record so, his manager and his fellow musicians. Robert Arken, David and Jacob Reese and Kenneth Fordes. That’s the best I can do. I think they live in the New York area also but I truly have no concrete knowledge.”

Andy was typing those few names into an email hoping it would help. After hitting send, Andy stood to check the batteries on their phones. Seeing them both fully charged, she placed Miranda’s phone on the nightstand next to the older woman and kept her own in hand as she stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Andréa, what are you doing?” Miranda spoke quietly without opening her eyes.

“I didn’t want to disturb you. I’m getting a bottle of water. Would you like anything?”

“Yes,” Miranda answered. Andy turned and stepped away, then heard a quiet, “please.”

Smiling faintly, despite the circumstances, she found a Perrier and a Poland Spring and hurried back. In her momentary absence, Miranda had turned one light off and draped a soft, gray blanket over herself. She held her cell phone in one hand and the other rested gently atop the blanket.

“Here you go, Miranda,” Andy put the sparkling water on the nightstand, “do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you. Why don’t you rest a while? You’ve been up as long as I have.”

“Mmm, probably. Thank you. Should I go back out to the main area?”

“Why? Am I really so terrifying, so evil you can no longer stand to me near me? You won’t become me by staying in the same room,” Miranda’s voice dripped acid even as it shook. She sat up a bit allowing the blanket to slip off as she looked intently at the younger woman.

“No, Miranda, no, of course not. You know I don’t think that of you!” Andy came around the bed and sat lightly by Miranda’s side, only then seeing the tears once again in Miranda’s eyes. “I just know you’ve been surrounded by people all day and I wanted to offer you some privacy if you needed it.”

“Not from you.”

**At the Townhouse**

“Yes, thank you, we need an Amber Alert out immediately. I thought it had already been done! We’ve wasted precious hours here. The Chief said we didn’t have information before, well it’s on the fax I’ve just sent over...we could use some boots on the ground to check out a few addresses, too. Somebody’s gotta have eyes on the dad’s current wife who we just learned was not traveling with him,” Olivia paused again to listen to the person on the other end of the line. “Yes, Captain, Cabot’s trying for that right now. I’ll let you know ASAP.” After hanging up, Olivia stared contemplatively at the wall for a minute.

“What is it?” Fin asked.

“That was the captain calling to ask what we needed to find those girls. Apparently, Irv Ravitz, CEO of Elias-Clarke, called One PP and offered a ton of money to support whatever needed to be done to get the twins home.”

“Seriously?”

The two detectives just looked at one another; it was incredibly rare for anyone to get the chief to push them to spend more money unless it was some politician somewhere.

“Anyway, Fin, listen, I’ve been trying to remember who told us Jennifer and Christopher Harper were traveling with James…”

“Uh, I have to check my notes, why?”

“Because they aren’t.”

**In the car**

Silent now and absolutely terrified, the girls just held hands with one another and stared out the windows. They were trying to remember everything they saw. Going on seven o’clock at night, they knew they wouldn’t be at the house for another hour at least. It was a solid four hour drive from Manhattan to Saratoga Springs on a good day but having left during traffic and making such a long stop to change cars was certain to add a lot of time to their trip.

Cassidy turned her focus from the scenery to the driver. She had changed in the last eight years, different haircut and color, no glasses, skinnier...but her bone structure was the same and Priestly women always remembered bone structure. Cassidy recognized her. From her memory, the woman hadn’t lived in Saratoga Springs last she knew. It was hard to tell what she planned on doing with them. They didn’t know her well at all. Cassidy was racking her brain, she knew she had memories of this woman in there and there were quite a few floating around. There was one in particular, though, that was skirting the edges of her mind. As she had seen her mother do, Cassidy closed her eyes and focused, gently tapping her lower lip with one finger. It was coming to her. She remembered her voice, remembered her saying, “These little demons aren’t my family. They’re spawns of the Devil herself.”

A lone tear trailed down her cheek. She was losing hope.

**Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean**

Leaning back against the pillows at the headboard, Andy’s brain was whirring. She was thinking of every nasty email she had deleted. Could the kidnapper have sent one of those emails? Does this really have something to do with James? Could this have to do with Stephen? Maybe a disgruntled client trying to hurt him by going after the girls? Andy snorted out loud at that.

“What is it?”

“Sorry to disturb you. I’m just trying to think of anyone we might’ve missed.”

“And that was funny?” Miranda’s voice sounded awful, a sad combination of tears, exhaustion, and anger.

“No, nothing was funny. I just had a thought that was so completely improbable, I was...scoffing at myself.”

“What?”

“My thought?”

“No, Andréa, define scoff for me. Yes, your thought.”

“I was just trying to figure out who could be behind this and who they could be trying to hurt. Could it really have something to do with James? It seems awfully far fetched that he would be involved in this. And I don’t think that any of his acquaintances would go after the girls to get back at him. They would go after Chris. An easier target who would have a more immediate impact on him. And wouldn’t risk the instant wrath of you.”

Miranda made a quiet noise of agreement before raising one eyebrow, reminding Andréa that she had not yet explained her scoff - which had sounded much more like a snort to Miranda’s ears.

“Then I thought of Stephen. Could this be about him? A disgruntled client? Someone he pissed off going after the girls to get back at him? But I realized that’s completely unrealistic. Anyone who has ever met Stephen - particularly a client who has gone to his office - would know he never really cared about Cass and Caro.”

Andy’s remarks were met with silence. Grasping what her exhausted brain had just said, Andy turned slowly and looked at Miranda with wide eyes. She whispered an apology, the blood draining from her face.

_Holy crap, Andy, what on earth did you just say to Miranda?! Her husband never cared about her kids? Nice. Way to get her to forgive your earlier lapse in judgment. Moron!_

“How is it that an assistant, who has been to my home only a handful of times - when I’m present at least - and has probably only met my soon-to-be-ex-husband a few times could see so quickly what it took me years to catch on to?”

“I, well, I don’t know,” Andy offered weakly.

“Really, Andréa? You don’t know? I am sure that you have some idea of what could have led to this idea. Quite correct idea, if your previous ideas are anything to go on.”

“It’s just...Miranda, I think, in some crazy way, Stephen was more honest with me than he was with you. I don’t just mean me; well, I kind of mean just me. Oh, my, God, I’m spewing word salad.” Andy took a deep breath and tried again. “Miranda, please excuse the sheer volume of words I’m using, I’m quite exhausted. What I'm trying to say is this; Stephen didn’t think highly enough of me to bother hiding his intentions. Or, maybe he knew how much it bothered me and he enjoyed the torture a little bit. I think he thinks he’s above everyone else and so, when he would call your office and I would intercept that call so as not to bother you, he would sort of, in a way, unleash on me all the anger he was hoping to throw your way. And he would...say...stuff. I didn’t mean stuff, I meant, err, complaints or, um, insults. He would just say stupid, ridiculous things about you and the girls. Not really to Emily. I think he liked that he could upset me with it. I tried not to let him know that it upset me but, um, I may have told him to shut the fuck up once...or twice...or a few times. God, Miranda, help me out here. I’m babbling myself to death and I just keep digging this hole deeper and deeper,” Andy covered her face when she finally finished her completely rushed statement to her slightly amused, yet dumbfounded, boss.

“Yes, you are babbling but it did not actually bother me. Sometimes, Andréa, your ridiculous habits - like babbling - can be...endearing, particularly when you are trying to keep innocent information from me,” Miranda surprised them both with that admission.

A whispered, “thank you,” was all Andy could respond through the lump in her throat.

“I, you must know, I don’t normally, that is to say, I have a hard time admitting to an apology however, in this case, I feel I must. Andréa, I am so sorry that you ever felt you had to intercept phone calls or, likely, visits from my errant spouse. He was a choice I should never have made and I’m sorry you had to pay a price for that, too.”

“Miranda, it wasn’t like that. You have nothing to apologize for at all. I just want to make your life easier,” Andy said quietly.

“Yes, well, that’s your job,” the editor said, dropping the mask back between them.

“No, it’s not.” Andy turned toward Miranda a bit, hoping to keep her focused on something other than the kidnapping for a few moments.

“Wh-”

“Wait, Miranda. Don’t get upset with me. I don’t mean anything bad. All I’m saying is my job is to make your work day run smoothly. I do that. Fairly well, most of the time I think,” Andy stopped with raised eyebrows, looking at Miranda.

“I haven’t any gold stars on me at the moment,” she said wryly.

Andy smirked before she continued. “Wanting to make your life easier is different. It’s, well, it’s personal. As your employee, I work damn hard to make your schedule and your work day run as efficiently as I can and I take pride in that. As Andy, just Andy, I want to make your life easier and that has nothing to do with the efficiency of Runway.”

“Andréa?”

“Yes.”

“I think this is a very important conversation we should have at a very different time.”

**At the Townhouse**

“Okay, Liv, according to my notes, Stephen told us Jennifer and Christopher Harper were away with James.”

“Well, she’s not and we haven’t even spoken to her yet. What were we thinking, trusting that drunk?”

“So, call her!”

“I’ve got uniforms on their way there right now.”

As Olivia finished speaking there was a frantic pounding on the door and the bell started ringing over and over. Hand on her holster, Olivia motioned to Fin to watch Stephen as she checked the peephole. She saw a short, blonde woman on the other side clinging tightly to a young boy.

“Stephen! Stephen Tomlinson you answer this door! Stephen!”

Olivia held up her badge and opened the door quickly, catching the blonde woman off-guard.

“It’s true? It’s really true? We just saw it on tv. The girls? Where? How could this happen?” And her tears started.

“Who are you, ma’am?” Olivia demanded, blocked the doorway.

“Jenn Harper. This is Christopher. They’re my daughters, too. My step-daughters. You have to find them,” Jenn was sobbing.

“Come in Mrs. Harper.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn't anyone tell me? Even James didn’t, why? I love those little imps. Chris loves them. They’re good girls. Why didn’t anyone tell us?”

“Mrs. Harper, come into the dining room, let me explain, please,” Olivia did not want Stephen to wake up. It was best to keep belligerent drunks asleep in her experience.

Following the detective and holding her son, Jenn Harper needed answers and said as much.

“Mrs. Harper, we truly believed you were aware of the situation. We had been led to believe that you and Chris were with James on his trip. We only just discovered that you were here in New York all along.”

“Yes, but why didn’t James tell me? Why didn’t their father want me to know these precious girls were missing?”

“That might be our fault, too. We told him he was not to discuss the matter with anyone. We warned him that until we had some idea who was involved, saying anything to anyone on any unsecured phone line would, quite possibly, put his daughters - your daughters - in more danger and we thought you were with him.”

“Fine. Where the hell is Stephen? He knew I was home. I spoke to him yesterday. I called Cara earlier, too, but she didn’t answer.”

“Who’s Cara?” Olivia asked.

“Uh, seriously? The nanny! She practically lives here,” Jenn answered.

“Are you kidding me?! There’s a freaking nanny and we didn’t know?”

“Jesus, Liv! We are so behind the eight ball right now. When will Miranda be here?”

“Hours, Fin. Hours more,” Olivia shook her head.

“I’m texting Cara right now but I wouldn’t expect an answer. She hasn’t answered me all damn day,” Jenn said bitterly. A few moments later, Olivia huffed and rolled her eyes at the same time Jenn gasped. 

“Cara?” Jenn called, “Cara?”

“That’s not Stephen’s phone?” Olivia asked.

“No, that’s Cara’s text alert from James and me.”

“I thought it sounded a little unprofessional for his work phone,” Olivia said as she ran into the foyer hoping to follow the sound. “Call Cara. Now!” Then, seconds later, Olivia turned toward the place she heard the ringtone coming from, the front closet.

She stood and listened to attempt to discern any other noise from inside. The ringing stopped. Olivia didn’t open the door right away. Instead, she backed toward the dining room and spoke quietly to Fin. At her request, he took Jenn and Christ Harper into the kitchen. She then stepped into the formal living room and waved over one of the uniforms who was baby-sitting Stephen.

“Listen, this is going to sound strange but I need you to cover me while I open that closet door. The missing have a nanny and no one has seen her today but her cell phone is ringing from inside there.”

“Got it, detective,” the young officer said, carefully removing his weapon from its holster.

Olivia took a deep breath, thanked God for Alex having already left, and stepped next to the closet door. She silently counted down with her fingers so Officer Grenier would be ready and, at zero, swung the door away from herself, stepped back, and raised her weapon.

**In Paris**

“‘Lo?” Nigel, scratchy voiced and exhausted, answered his cell phone.

“Nigel, yes, it’s Irv, Irv Ravitz. Listen, my wife and I are going to be leaving the hotel in about a half hour to head back to the States and see if there’s anything we can do for Miranda or her kids. If you want to go, meet us in the lobby in thirty minutes.”

_How pissed would Miranda be if I left Fashion Week? Let’s see, I’d only be missing the Holt show and, really, we don’t care about that one at all, do we? I might’ve gone to lunch during that fiasco anyway._

“Thanks, Irv, see you in the lobby.”

Nigel quickly started firing off texts to the remaining Runway personnel in Paris letting them know he, too, would be leaving. He encouraged no one to attend the Holt show and wished them all a safe journey home.

**Still somewhere over the Atlantic**

“Miranda? Are you awake?” Andy whispered to the woman next to her.

“Yes.”

Turning towards Miranda, Andy rolled onto her right side so they were facing each other before she spoke, “Don’t you think it’s odd that we haven’t heard anything from Cara yet?”

“I...I’m not sure. She’s certainly entitled to a day off if she thinks that’s what today is.” Miranda seemed confused.

“Who would’ve told her that, though? Shouldn’t she have been at your house by three?”

“I just assumed that whomever had given that letter to Max and contacted Stephen also contacted Cara. Do you think otherwise?”

“I don’t know. I just think it’s strange that we haven’t heard from her at all. Don’t you think she would have called when the schedule changed to verify with one of us?”

“Perhaps she checked with Emily,” Miranda offered.

“No. No one checks the girls’ schedules with Emily. No one checks **any** schedules with Emily. Cara and I confer a few times a week,” Andy trailed off, realizing Miranda probably didn’t know that.

“What? You **confer** with Cara? What reason would you have to confer with my nanny?”

“Well, that way we can make sure you get to see the girls more. You have dinner with them more often. I know I overstepped - I know I shouldn’t have. The first time wasn’t even on purpose but when it worked so well we talked a few more times and it ended up being so easy to adjust a few things here and there. Or if Cass or Caro had a rough day or if you did we would call and make sure you got home for dinner, or at least before they were in bed.”

“That...that was...you?”

“And Cara,” Andy said quietly. _I’m fired. I’m so fired. It wasn’t malicious. I just wanted to help her. It worked so well. Why did I open my mouth? Now I’m fired. She shouldn’t fire Cara, though._ “Unless you’re upset about it. Then it wasn’t Cara’s fault. Don’t blame her.”

“Blame her? You silly, silly girl. I couldn’t understand how, after so many years, I was suddenly home for family dinners and miraculously free for afternoon soccer matches. You...you did that...for me. For my babies. Thank you. Thank you both so much.” Miranda reached out with her right hand, resting it on Andy’s left bicep. “I don’t know why you would do that for me, why you spend time - it must be a lot of time - smoothing my personal schedule out, too.” Miranda paused. “Why?” She whispered, gently rubbing Andréa’s arm.

“Because you need someone - me - to do it.”

“But I never expected that of you. I never said I wanted you to do that.”

Andy slowly reached up with her free hand, placing it carefully on Miranda’s, “I know...but I could see past what you wanted and what you needed...and I chose...for myself.”

**In the car**

“We’re almost there, girls. Now, you listen here. Neither of you move until I open the door. Then we’re going inside to wait for your father. Got it?”

“Um, when we get inside can I call my mom?”

“No.”

“Please? I don’t feel very well and I just need to talk to her.”

“It’s true. Caro always gets really nervous our first night away from home and Mommy expects to hear from her. She gets really mad at Daddy when Caro doesn’t call. Last time Daddy didn’t let Caro call, Mommy said she was going to get a court order and Daddy had to say he was sorry and it would never happen again. So, if we’re really going to Daddy’s, we have to call Mom.”

“What do you mean, ‘if we’re really going to Daddy’s’ huh? What are you saying,” the driver roughly questioned Cassidy.

“I just mean, Caro has to be able to call Mommy. Or at least Cara. Or Andy. Someone so Mommy knows Caro’s okay.”

Cassidy was hoping with everything in her that this worked. She truly felt that it was their last chance to help themselves.

“Cara? Your nanny?”

“Yeah,” Cass answered.

“Fine. Call her when we get inside. I hope you know her number, though, because I’m not looking it up for you.”

Cassidy refrained from rolling her eyes and simply said, “I do, thank you,” before she looked out the window again.

She sat up a little straighter as she felt the car slow and heard a directional signal turn on. As they made a right hand turn, Cass saw an entry sign that read “Louden Pines Mobile Home Residence Village” and wondered where the heck they were. She elbowed her sister a bit, just to get her to look around. Finally, it seemed Caro had gained her bearings.

**At the townhouse**

“Oh, shit,” Olivia said as she took in the sight of a terrified woman, bound and gagged in the closet. “Fin! Call for a rig! We have a hostage in the house.”

“What?” Fin answered, not knowing what to do with the woman and child he had with him in the kitchen.

The woman in the closet had tears pouring from her eyes and was pulling back as much as her limited movements would allow.

Olivia quickly checked the rest of the walk in closet to make sure it was safe before holstering her weapon. The unidentified woman’s eyes grew huge at that and she seemed to be panicking. Olivia held her badge up and spoke quietly, “I’m a detective with the NYPD. I’m not going to hurt you. Can you hear me?” She waited for the woman to calm down a bit and nod - as much as she could - before she continued. “I’d like to take that gag out of your mouth, would that be okay? I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you. Can I take that out of your mouth?” The woman nodded again, as much as she was able with the restraints around her body.

She was laying on her side facing the closet door. Her feet were tied together and pulled behind her, a rope was wrapped around that loop and around her forehead where the skin had long since turned red and raw. Her hands were bound together in front of her and then she was wrapped, it looked tightly, with more rope around her torso so she was unable to move her arms away from her upper body.

Olivia, having dealt with so many people in similar situations to this one, knew that it would help the bound woman if she talked her through the release. “I’m just going to put my badge back on my belt, first. Now I’m going to reach around your head and see if I can untie the knot that’s in the back. I’m going to have to lean over you to do that, but you’ll be able to see me the whole time. I’m not going to do anything to hurt you but your hair might get pulled a bit when I undo the tie. Don’t worry, this is easier than I thought it would be. It doesn’t seem to be tied very tightly. The rope just prevented you from moving enough to get it off. Okay, it’s untied. Now, don’t try to talk right away when I take it out of your mouth. You’ve been in here for a long time and you’re going to need some water first. Here we go,” Olivia said as she gently pulled the material out of the young woman’s mouth.

The bound woman took a deep breath and tried to swallow but was unable to get any moisture back in her mouth. Olivia quickly turned and told the officer behind her to get a bottle of water and Detective Tutuola right away. Moments later, Fin jogged over with the water. “Oh, my, God, Liv; that’s Cara!”

The woman looked up and nodded frantically as Olivia opened the water.

“I’m going to pour just a little of this into your mouth. Swish it around and spit it back out, okay? Don’t swallow the first bit. I’ll give you more after that.”

Finally, after a few sips of water the woman was able to speak, though her voice was very gravelly.

“I’m Cara O’Shea, the nanny for Cassidy and Caroline Priestly. Have you heard anything more from them? Can you please untie me?”

“Have you been able to hear us this whole time?”

“Yes, I’ve heard everything. I can’t believe no one told Jenn and Chris. Who did this to me? I thought I heard Stephen in the house but then someone came up behind me and I felt something hit me in the head. When I woke up I was in the closet here. Can you please untie me? I’ve been like this since this morning.”

“Cara, I’m going to try to get the rope off your head but I need medical personnel to look at you before you’re untied. It could cause serious damage to you if there are blood clots in your hands or feet and I untie you now. It’s been hours that you’ve been tied up, right? So, you’ve long since lost circulation in your extremities.”

“No, no, they aren’t that tight to make me lose feeling. Look, I can move all my fingers and my toes. Please, please untie me.”

“Cara the ambulance will be here any moment and they’ll decide whether or not we can untie you. In the meantime, we need any information you have on what’s going on right now.”

“I don’t know anything. I was here early today, as I usually am when Miranda’s away so I can make sure the girls will have an easy night when they come home. I didn’t expect Stephen to be here, though, so I was really surprised to hear his voice. He hasn’t been living here for a while now and with Miranda away this week it was a bit awkward to have him back in the house. He seemed to be avoiding it. I actually expected him to ask me to stay here with the girls because he seemed so uncomfortable with Cass and Caro.”

“Was he alone?”

“No. I heard two voices. I don’t know who he was talking to and I was trying to decide whether or not to interrupt when I got knocked out. Are you sure you can’t untie me?”

“I’m sure I can’t, Cara. Think back. Think really hard. Was it a man or a woman you heard him talking to?”

“A woman. It was definitely a woman. That’s why I was thinking about interrupting. I knew he’d been sleeping with someone else - I heard Miranda say so - and I couldn’t believe his nerve to have some other woman here while Miranda was in Paris, trusting him with her babies!”

“What time was this?”

“Before noon today. About half past ten, I think. I was putting together a fruit platter with chocolate dip for an after school snack today. The girls get so stressed about their Dalton Mids, I wanted them to have something fun to do,” Cara said quietly, as her eyes began tearing again. “Please find them. They won't know what to do out here without someone taking care of them. You have to find them.”

Just at that moment, they heard sirens approaching and Fin headed to the front door to let the EMTs in.

“Is it Cara? Did you find Cara? Is she okay?” Olivia heard Jenn asking him from behind her somewhere.

“Mrs. Harper, please keep Chris in the kitchen. Cara is here and she will be okay but she needs a little medical attention and it might upset your son,” Fin answered.

The EMTs came in the front door with a stretcher and rolled it quickly to the closet door.

“Phew,” one of the men said, “I’m sure you’re not very comfortable in there ladies. How about we switch so I can get a look at your hands and feet?”

Nodding, Olivia moved out of the way. “I need to ask you a few more questions, Cara. After you’re cleared or at the hospital. We need a statement from you and I’d like you to look at some names to see if any of them are familiar to you.”

Olivia could hear the EMT talking calmly to Cara, much as she had done before. She watched as his partner handed him a small knife and she heard the repetitive sound of cutting.

“Are you sure you should be doing that? What if there are blood clots in her hands and feet?” Olivia spoke quickly.

“It’s okay, Detective. I’m just cutting off the rope holding her arms in place. It wasn’t really as tight as it looked. Her sweatshirt is pretty big and the extra material helped cushion her arms. The ropes just held her in an awkward position. Cara here is going to be absolutely fine. There you go, Cara. Now, can you move your arms a little bit for me?”

“Yeah, that feels much better.” Once her arms were free, Cara moved her hands around a bit, rotating her wrists and stretching her fingers. 

“Can I look at your hands now?”

Cara just held them out towards him as an answer.

“This is good. There’s no swelling in your fingers at all. That’s very, very good. That means you haven’t lost circulation in your hands. Have you experienced any pins and needles or loss of sensation in your feet or legs?”

Cara shook her head, “No, I tried to keep moving them every so often to make sure they were still working.”

As the EMT continued to talk with Cara, Olivia stepped away to speak to Fin.

“Okay, so that explains why we haven’t heard from the nanny all day. I still feel like there’s something we’re not seeing here, though.”

“I know, live. Let’s see if Mrs. Harper can help us. She should know some of the people on the list and she should be able to help us with friends and business associates.”

Jenn, however, refused to leave the area Cara was in until she was sure the younger woman was going to be okay.

**In the car**

“Um, I know you’re taking us to meet Dad, but I’m really confused. I know for sure Dad doesn’t have a house here. His Saratoga Springs house is on Bryant Street, not here,” Cassidy said quietly.

“We’re not going to his house. He’s meeting us here. I’m not going to continue being nice and answering your questions so you better stop asking them.”

“Right. Sorry. I’m just curious.”

“Hmph. Curiosity killed the cat.”

Cassidy fell silent, beyond frightened at the insinuation in the woman’s voice.

As the car pulled to a stop the twins looked around, taking in every detail they could. They were parked in front of a small, white mobile home. There was part of a little, plastic fence in front of the right side of the house and two concrete steps leading up to the out-of-date, metal storm date. The interior door stood open but neither girl could see anything inside. Cassidy looked around the yard but there was nothing but dying grass and she didn’t see anyone outside any other houses at all.

“You stay put until I open your door, understand?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

When the driver got out and shut the door behind her, Caroline quickly whispered, “I saw someone in the house. They were in the last window on the right but only for a second. Take your shoes off and leave one in the car, sticking out from under the seat just a bit and then, when we get out, kick the other one a little bit under the car so no one inside can see it until the car moves.”

“Like breadcrumbs?”

“Exactly. So Mom can find us, just like the mom found Hansel and Gretel and saved them from the witch.”

**At the townhouse**

“Detective Benson? Cara’s clear. The ropes were tied expertly. She lost no circulation, she was just retrained. She’ll probably be a little sore but she’s refusing to come to the hospital to get the bump or abrasions on her head checked out,” one of the EMTs told Olivia as he helped Cara out of the closet.

Olivia reached forward to help the young woman as she thanked him. “If she seems worse or changes her mind, we’ll have someone bring her in right away.”

Cara and Jenn hugged tightly for a moment, both women crying.

“Let’s head back to the dining room and you two can help us with some information,” Olivia guided the women through the foyer to the dining room table where Fin and Chris were already waiting.

“Detective, could someone get the fruit out of the refrigerator? I haven’t had anything to eat today and I feel a little funny.”

“Sure, Miss O’Shea, I’ll get that,” Fin offered.

“It’s Cara, please. How can I help? I don’t know where the girls are.”

Olivia began to gently question Cara about what she had heard that morning between Stephen and the unknown woman. She needed to know who that woman was. Clearly it was important if Stephen had hidden it from them. He told Olivia he had been at work all morning until he heard from Miranda and then he headed to the townhouse. Obviously that was not the case. If he had nothing to hide, why was he lying and what would it take to get him to tell the truth?

“Fin, I think we need to get Stephen to the station. If we keep him here to question him, he’s just going to keep drinking and that will put anything he says to us in a questionable state.”

“Alright, I’ll call Munch to meet Stephen there. Let’s send him over with a uni so we can both stay here,” Fin left the room to take care of that.

“Cara, Jenn, Chris, can all three of you please wait in the kitchen? I don’t want Stephen to see any of you before he leaves. We don’t know what anyone’s level of involvement is in this situation and we don’t want to give away any information we have. I’m going to go make sure the closet is closed and there’s no hint that we found you, Cara, okay?”

Cara nodded and all three of them headed quietly back to the kitchen, bringing the snacks with them.

_This situation just got a hell of a lot more complicated. I don’t think we’re going to get a ransom call after all._

The phone rang, disturbing the silence and awakening Stephen.


	5. Hopelessness

**Louden Pines**

“Call Cara’s cell phone!”

“No, I want to talk to Mommy,” Caroline insisted.

“Caro, listen. I know you want to talk to her but think about it. Mom’s in Paris at some show or in her hotel. She’s going to be pissed off if you call her right now and interrupt. Cara is **here**. In New York. She’s probably wondering where we are right now. We should have called her right away. Call her when you get inside. **She** can actually help us. **She** is here.”

“But what if we never get to talk to Mommy again? What if this is our last chance and we call Cara instead? What will Mom think? How will she feel when she hears that?”

“She’ll think we were smart enough to call someone who could at least try to help us instead of calling France!”

Caroline stopped fighting her sister and looked out the window. As she saw the woman who had driven them out to the trailer park she looked Cassidy square in the eyes and answered, “I’ll call the townhouse. Either Cara will answer or I’ll leave a message and pretend I’m talking to Mom. That way our call might be followed back here and we’ll know someone is trying to help.”

“What if the jerk answers?”

“He won’t. When does he ever answer the phone? He probably doesn’t even know where it is.”

The door pulled quickly open, “let’s go. Inside.”

“Okay, Auntie, we’re coming.”

**De Gaulle Airport**

“Terminal Two, Kipling. We board in twenty minutes. I’ll leave without you.”

“I’ll be there, Ravitz.”

Irv and Nigel went their separate ways until they were to meet at the gate. Nigel was still trying to figure out what he was supposed to do with the new Irv. Did his help mean he no longer wanted to get rid of Miranda? Did it mean he was just giving her a reprieve?

“Irv, please. Nigel’s just as worried about the girls as anyone else. Be nice,” Mrs. Ravitz admonished her husband.

Irv didn’t respond, instead continuing to walk towards the terminal he knew they were leaving from.

“It’s okay,” Nigel reassured her, “I understand. He’s upset and it’s hard to deal with.”

“Our son, a long time ago, was taken from us. We were such a happy, little family, the three of us. Matt had just turned seven and we were shopping for his birthday party. We had invited his whole class and waited too long to shop so we were running around the party store trying to find anything with ET on it. ET was big then,” she smiled sadly, lost a little in the memory. “Somehow, we both thought Matt was with the other one and didn’t know he was missing for probably fifteen minutes. There was no security video. No one had seen him. He was just...gone. We had just found out we were pregnant and we hadn’t told Matt, yet. We had always planned on having another but it felt wrong after we lost him. We never wanted anyone to think we were trying to replace him. He was irreplaceable. A cute, sweet little thing with brown eyes and brown hair and a half toothed smile. He looked completely unique to me, but I’m sure everyone else just saw a typical little boy. He was wearing jeans and cowboy boots with his little cowboy shirt. I made him leave his holster and cap gun at home, though, so he had pouted a lot that day. Even though we were shopping for his party he was sulking a lot and I’ve always wondered if he maybe just wandered away. There were never any leads. There was never even a clue.”

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Ravitz. I can’t imagine how terrible that must have been for your family.”

“So, you see, that’s part of Irv’s problem. He’s always carried a bit of guilt and angers in him about our Matt. That’s also why we’re heading home now and why he’s already spoken to the Chief about sparing no expense in the search for Miranda’s girls.”

Nigel was speechless. His heart broke for what their family had gone through and, with that heartbreak, came the panicked thought that the twins might not come home.

“That was very thoughtful of Irv and I’m sure Miranda will truly appreciate it when she hears that, Mrs. Ravitz.”

“Melanie, please. Call me Melanie. It doesn’t matter if Miranda hears it or not. All that matters right now is that her daughters are returned.”

“Thank you, Melanie. Tell me,” Nigel continued to speak to her as they found their gate in Terminal Two, “is there anything I can actually do for Miranda right now? Anything you wish someone had done for you?”

“No. There’s honestly nothing any of us can do right now other than try to think of anyone we know of who might want to hurt her.”

With that, Nigel and Melanie fell silent. One, lost in thought of two redheaded children, wreaking havoc and causing mayhem at their mother’s office years ago. The other, lost in thoughts of a smiling, little boy taking his first steps, going to school for the first time, and losing his first tooth. Hope. They were living on hope.

**OVer the Atlantic**

The two women stared deeply into one another’s eyes for a long, silent moment. Andy took a nervous breath and opened her mouth to speak. Before she could break the silence, however, Miranda stopped her with a quiet, “shh” and gentle fingers on her lips. “There are things between us that need to be said, Andréa. Conversations we must have. But not yet. Not now when we’re both on the edge.”

“I’ll wait, Miranda. I’m not going anywhere,” Andy said with as much sincerity as she had in her body. Smiling as she felt Miranda’s hand rest again on her arm.

“You were,” Miranda whispered, tears forming again before she swallowed them down.

“I think that’s part of the conversation we’re not having right now,” Andy admitted.

Nearly smiling, Miranda nodded.

Ther hands remained pressed together, fingers entwined atop Andy’s bicep when Andy whispered, “Miranda, try to close your eyes and rest for a minute. Sometimes we are able to put thoughts together in dreams in a way we can’t when we’re fully awake.”

“I can’t, Andréa. I cannot sleep while I know my children are out there with some stranger going God-knows-where for God-knows-what.”

“Okay, then don’t sleep. I just know you have so many details stored in that amazing brain of yours that maybe resting your eyes for a little while will allow you to realize how they all fit together.”

“Perhaps,” Miranda acquiesced, not closing her eyes but looking again into Andréa’s.

It was a far more intimate moment than Andy had ever shared with Nate. She felt so present, so in the moment with Miranda, it was as if she had never really seen the older woman before. She was looking so intently at Miranda’s eyes she saw the moment when the other woman spaced out right before her. Miranda’s eyes had gone from completely focused on Andy to staring straight through her. Andy was mesmerized by the thought process going on behind those icy, blue eyes. She was not even surprised when the editor quickly sat up and tilted her head in thought.

“Andréa! I just thought of something! Phone that detective, immediately!”

**At the Townhouse/Louden Pines**

“Mr. Tomlinson, you need to answer the phone,” Olivia said loudly.

Stephen tried to glance surreptitiously at the clock before he answered negatively. Unfortunately, he was in a room with two detectives who both noticed his look.

“Mr. Tomlinson, this is not an option. You will answer the phone. Now,” Olivia demanded, actually picking up the phone and holding it to Stephen’s face.

“Ugh, hello?”

“Stephen?”

“Yes,” Stephen answered coldly, knowing full well to whom he was speaking.

“Um, it’s Caroline,” the little girl said quietly, starting to tear up a little, “I wanted to talk to Cara. Is she there?”

“No.”

Olivia was distracted by frantic movement at the edge of her peripheral vision, turning to see what it was she realized that their phone tap guy was mouthing “it’s the girls” and waving his arms.

“Tomlinson, you better keep that kid on the phone or so help me, God, I will tell Miranda Priestly all about it.”

“Caroline? Yes, it’s Stephen, but Cara’s not here.”

“Oh, well, us, I just wanted to talk to her.”

“Is everything okay, Caroline? You sound a bit different.”

“No, everything isn’t okay, Stephen.”

Olivia interrupted, “Ask her where they are and if they’ve been hurt. Ask if she recognizes anything or anyone.”

“So, Caroline, are you guys okay?

“We’re not hurt or anything, but, um,” Caroline looked at her sister and then at the woman who was standing with her hand on the button that would end the call if she didn't’ like what she heard, “I just really wanted to talk to Cara. I don’t feel good.”

“Do you know where you are Caroline?”

“Yes.”

Stephen covered the phone and looked at the detective, “I think someone’s there with her or something. I can’t do this.”

“Ask her if there’s someone there listening.”

“Is there an adult there listening to me, Caroline?”

“Um, kind of. Can I talk to Cara? She should be there.”

“Can they hear me or not?” Stephen asked harshly.

Glancing furtively at her captor, Caroline answered in the negative and Stephen shook his head at the detective who promptly grabbed the phone.

“Can you hear me, Caroline?” Olivia asked very quietly.

“Uh-huh.”

“Can anyone else hear me?”

“No.”

“Okay, I want you to listen very carefully. I’m a detective and I’m at your house to try to find you. If you need me to find you and your sister start talking about school. If you don’t need any help just tell me.” Olivia hoped the girl was old enough and wise enough to play along.

“Yeah, Dalton Mids are this week but Cass and I will just have to make them up,” Caroline said with a small shake in her voice. Her little hands were trembling as she held the phone.

“Okay, sweetie, I want you to keep calling me Stephen and keep talking about school if you agree with what I’m saying.”

“It’s okay, Stephen, we can study before we take the tests. We have really good grades.”

Seeing the woman relax at the tone of the conversation, Cassidy chose that moment to try to help her sister get some more information across.

“Um, Auntie, I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Fine, it’s right down the hall, I’ll show you,” and she walked away from Caroline.

Caro cut off whatever Olivia was saying, “No, I think geography is the hardest one. That’s the one we always have a hard time with.” The girl turned to see that the other two were down the hall a bit before she whispered, “Louden Pines Mobile Home Community in Saratoga Springs, New York. Pull in and turn right. It’s the fourth one on the right. Cass’ shoe is in the driveway under a black car. Mommy didn't have trouble with geography, she has an eidetic memory,” Caroline finished as she heard someone come into the room behind her. The woman snorted as she heard what Caroline said.

“Okay, kid, that’s enough, say goodbye.”

“Please not yet. It’s making me feel better. Just a few more minutes, I promise,” Caroline didn’t have to try to force tears to her eyes. She was so scared she could barely keep from crying.

“Ugh, fine.”

“Thank you,” Caroline smiled tremulously before going back to her phone call.

“Good job, Caroline. Good job. Now, has anyone hurt you or your sister?”

“How’s Patricia? She usually gets so mopey the first day Cass and I aren’t home.”

“I’m glad you’re not hurt, Caroline, and you’re being so brave. The information you gave us is going to help us find you. We’ll have you out of there in no time.”

“I think Cass and I are going to both take a second language next year. I know it means overloading our schedule but we really like to stick together.”

“Got it, Car, good job,” Olivia encouraged.

“Enough, already, Caroline. Off the phone.”

Hoping it would help, Caroline tried to tell Olivia who she was with without being too obvious, “Okay, Auntie Rebecca. I feel much better now. Thank you for letting me call. I have to go now, Stephen. Bye!” Caroline carefully dropped the receiver onto the floor before she hung up so she could continue to give away information, “Auntie, are we going to get to see Mommy Elizabeth while we’re here? It’s been so long since we saw her. Like six years or so, I think. She used to live up here, too, right?”

“Well, you’re mu-” was the last Olivia heard as the phone was hung up.

“Fin! I know exactly where they are!” Olivia shouted, pulling Stephen up by one arm and pulling him toward the door.

**Over the Atlantic**

“It’s my mother,” Andy said apologetically, “I won’t answer.”

“Thank you,” Miranda said as she handed her phone to Andréa,” now please call Detective Benson.”

“Okay, but what am I supposed to say?” Andy asked as she rang the detective, putting the phone up to her ear.

“Just give me the phone, I’ll tell her,” Miranda reached for the phone.

“Benson.”

“This is Miranda Priestly. I have some information for you.”

“Miranda, we know where they are. I was about to call you and Andy. Can you divert to Albany International Airport?”

“Where are they?” Miranda asked, reaching over and grasping Andréa’s hand, staring intently into the younger woman’s eyes.

Andy could barely breathe, she was so anxious and ready for the girls to be back with their mother.

“Caroline just called home and told me that they’re Saratoga Springs, New York in a trailer park named Louden Pines. She’s with someone she called Auntie Rebecca and mentioned something about Mommy Elizabeth.”

“That’s James’ ex-wife, Elizabeth, and her sister, Rebecca, I’m sure. We will go speak to the pilot about diverting. If he can’t take us to Albany, what should we do? Are you going there now? Who is going to get them? Are they in danger?”

“We’re going to call the Saratoga Springs Police Department and have them go watch the house. I have to speak to my captain about the quickest way for us to get up to Saratoga Springs but it may not be possible. If I can’t physically get there, the Saratoga force will get the girls out but a safe plan like this takes time to work out. The first thing we need you to do is find out if you can fly to Albany instead of JFK.”

“Okay, we’ll go ask right now and call you back immediately.”

“Your house phone is ringing again, Miranda. From the same number Caroline just called from. Don’t hang up,” Olivia told her.

Listening to what was going on with Olivia, Miranda sent Andy to ask the pilot to divert their flight to Albany. Andy was very hesitant to leave Miranda alone and not know what was happening so she gently pulled Miranda’s hand to join her. Nodding, Miranda stood and the two quickly moved toward where they had seen Travis head earlier. After waking up the exhausted flight attendant, Andy quickly whispered an explanation of what they needed him and begged him to speak to the pilot.

Miranda, meanwhile, was trying desperately to listen to what was going on in her townhouse. She could hear Stephen on the phone and hear the detectives talking but she couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.

“Miranda, listen,” Olivia suddenly said loudly into the phone.

“I’m here.”

“They’ve, uh, they’ve called for ransom.”

“But we know where they are. What exactly was said?”

“The person on the phone was using a voice distorter so we do not know if it was a man or a woman and they’ve demanded four million dollars in exchange for the lives of your children…”

Miranda doubled over, nearly dropping the phone.“What...what...what else? There’s something else.”

Olivia was fairly surprised, not many people could read her so well, especially over the phone, “They also want an alteration to your custody arrangement.”

“What?” Miranda looked at Andy, genuine confusion on her face.

“In order to keep your children alive, they’re demanding four million dollars and an alteration to your custody arrangement. They are prepared to make the exchange tonight, they claim.”

“I’ll give them four million right now but what am I to do with my custody arrangement?”

“Apparently they’ve emailed the specifics to your ex-husband, James Harper.”

“Are you speaking to them right now? Can you tell them I’ll pay? I’ll pay whatever they want if they give the girls back to me. Four million? Eight million? Ten?”

“That’s just it, Miranda. They won’t give the girls back to you. They will only release the girls to James when they receive a copy of the altered custody arrangement and the money.”

Miranda sat heavily back on the bed.

“Fine. Fine, I’ll do whatever they want but they have to realize even I cannot alter a custody agreement by myself overnight from France.”

“I’ll have Stephen tell then right now, Miranda, hang in there.”

Andy’s hands were shaking along with Miranda’s. A change in custody plans? That had to mean the kidnappers were involved with at least one of Miranda’s ex-husbands. Was it James or Stephen?

“James wouldn’t do this,” Miranda said to Andy as she watched the younger woman bite her lower lip.

“Then it’s Stephen? He was smart enough to figure this out,” Andy questioned.

“Miranda? We have a number to call when we’re ready to make the exchange. This is good, Miranda. This is really good. It means the girls are safe and unharmed and will be home so soon.”

Just as Miranda was about to hang up, Travis came back to the bedroom to tell them that the plane would be able to divert to Albany with hardly any added flight time. They would be landing in about an hour and a half. Miranda passed that information on to Olivia before hanging up.

“I’ll get them back just to give them up?”


End file.
